A love in Black and White anniversary challenges
by UsagiLovesDuochan
Summary: My entries for the P/J group on Lifejournal. Every chapter will be a completed one-shot and because this is for "A love in Black and White" of course every chapter is Prowl/Jazz centric.
1. Week One Caught in the act

My first entry for the P/J "A love in Black and White" lifejournal group's anniversary challenge.

Title: Caught  
>Part: 11  
>Author: Usagi-Atemu-Tom<br>**Anniversary Challenges: Week one prompt – Caught in the act**  
>Genre: slash, romance, humour<br>Pairings: Jazz/Prowl  
>Feedback: Please, yes, I love feedback! =^^=<p>

Summary: While Jazz does not mind getting caught, Prowl cannot take it as lightly as his lover. But now they both have to deal with it.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine I don't make money with it and write only for fun and to get better in writing English. ^_^

Helpful Pointers:  
>Orn - 13 days<p>

Please note that I've only ever watched the two movies from 2007 and 2009. While I've 'met' a lot of Transformers from the comics and cartoons, that more often than not show up in fanfics I, of course, have not seen them in action and therefore might not be able to interpret their characters right. I am using mostly what I've learned through the movie (and maybe fanfics) and while catching some ideas here and there I am mainly using my very own ideas for things like energon, space bridges and so on.

And not to forget, much thanks to Taralynden for betareading.

* * *

><p>"Oh c'mon, Prowler, don't tell meh ya're mad at meh", Jazz, Autobot special ops and saboteur whined while he drove on the silent road of the highway. The two commanders, both currently in their alt mode, were on their way home to the Ark.<p>

Unfortunately for Jazz, the speed they used for their homecoming was far from his liking. He had tried more than once to quicken their pace, but every time he attempted to speed up the police car's engine let out a loud growl and Prowl went up right in front of him, slowing down so quickly that the sport car's front bumped into the police car's rear not so gently, forcing Jazz to slow down once again.

It was a bad thing for the saboteur who was still feeling kind of high and hoping to get rid of the itch with a nice, speedy race. Sadly Prowl did not see things his way and it seemed his mood had also not improved much. After all his many moves to stop Jazz's craving for speed happened in tense silence - not counting the growling - until the saboteur finally could no longer bear it and voiced his displeasure.

The Autobot tactician however seemed to have decided to punish Jazz with silence. Therefore the special ops agent continued to rant his complaints in hope of breaking his fellow commander's reserve.

"Ah know that ya had fun, too, Prowler, so don't punish meh wit' silence now, just because things didn't work out yer way. Ya act like it was yer first time an' it simply didn't turn out th' way ya imagined. Ah mean, face it, this was somethin' new an' yeah, ya weren't all that eager t' try it out, so Ah take that point in tryin' t' persuade ya - successfully - if Ah may add, an' okay so doing this out in the wilds, deep in th' night under th' stars - because Ah thought this might be romantic, really - simply assuming all bots woulda been away an' asleep might've been miscalculation on mah part but ya can't say that ya had any alternative suggestions, so Ah say ya can't push th' full blame t' meh, that's too simple."

Prowl, it seemed, finally had enough of Jazz happily ranting away at him.

"Jazz, if you suggest anything like this ever again, remind me to shoot you", the Autobot second in command growled out sourly, his engine letting out another threatening sound.

"Awww, c'mon, Prowler. It's only Sideswipe who's seen it. It was unfortunate, Ah admit. But how should Ah know that he knew about that location an' decided t' check it out tonight of all times? Ah really thought we'd be by ourselves or Ah woulda never suggested it. Though, Ah'm sure it can't be that bad. Only one bot after all. An' hey, at least we weren't caught by a Decepticon, eh? Can ya imagine how much more of a mood killer that woulda been?"

"And just because Sideswipe is coincidentally a bearer of a twinbond, of course Sunstreaker won't find out about this", Prowl retorted with a voice like dried paper. "Consequently after both twins are privy to what happened, one will be busy trying to blackmail me while the other is telling Bluestreak who cannot keep his mouthplates shut. With a prospect like that chances of the whole Ark knowing about our predicament before sunrise are at 90 percent."

For a moment Jazz kept silent, mulling over the other's words.

"Ah well", the saboteur finally said, voice bright, "ya gotta see the bright side. He had to've seen you were in control o'the whole thing. Ain't many who can do that t' me. That should help yer reputation, shouldn't it?"

Obviously Jazz's idea of damage control put the tactician so out of the loop that he swayed on the road for a moment. After he pulled himself together again, his engine growled loudly at the special ops agent.

"Jazz! With the knowledge of the act itself I think they hardly care who was where, when. They'll find it hilarious either way. I will be the joke of the Ark for orns", the Autobot second in command sounded truly miserable now. And even though Jazz could still not help the amusement he felt for the whole situation, he also felt sorry for the mech that held his very spark in his servos.

Speeding up slowly he bumped his front gently and playfully against the police car's rear, a gesture of comfort and love.

"C'mon Prowler, don't take it so hard. Ah'm sure th' bots won't be that hard on ya. An' if they turn out t' be, ya tell meh an' Ah'll set 'em straight. Believe meh, when Ah'm through wit' th' Ark, no one'll ever dare t' bother ya about this ever again."

Prowl let out a sigh through his vents, hearing the seriousness and the promise in his lover's voice. Acting his usual stoic self, Jazz really did not need to know that the tactician secretly felt slightly amused and touched at Jazz's show of care.

"I just don't like the fact that we got caught. It's embarrassing and uncomfortable", he admitted, voice finally without a growl and more like his usual self.

"But th' gettin' caught fact notwithstandin', until that moment ya admit that it was pleasurable all along for ya, out there, secluded an' in secret wit' only the moon an' th' stars watchin', right?" Jazz prodded, his tone slightly hopeful and desperate. It had been his idea all along after all. The plan for some memorable alone time, something they had not been able to enjoy for quite a while.

Noting the saboteur's sudden show of uncertainty, Prowl decided to have mercy with his lover by allowing his dry humour to slip to the fore.

"Jazz, next time you suggest for us to participate in an unofficial racing event, **I** will be the one to choose the location. But beside that I admit that, yes, I enjoyed the freedom of speed you offered me tonight."

Jazz's happy laughter could be heard through the silent night for a long, long time as Prowl finally allowed them to speed up again so they could finally reach their home at the Ark.

The End


	2. Week Two

Title: Dance me to eternity  
>Part: 11  
>Author: Usagi-Atemu-Tom<br>Anniversary Challenges: Week two prompt – Dance  
>Genre: slash, romance, drama, comfort<br>Warnings: Character death  
>Pairings: JazzProwl  
>Feedback: Please, yes, I love feedback! =^^=<p>

Summary: No one ever knew or even suspected anything. But now that HE was gone, it was hard to keep it all in, especially when not one spark was into the secret and there for him to listen.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine I don't make money with it and write only for fun and to get better in writing English. ^_^

Helpful Pointers:  
>Vorn - 83 years<br>Stellar-cycle – 7.5 months  
>Orn - 13 days<br>Joor - 8 hours  
>Breem - 6 minutes<br>Astrosecond - 5/6ths of a second  
>Klick - 1 millisecond<p>

Please note that I've only ever watched the two movies from 2007 and 2009. While I've 'met' a lot of Transformers from the comics and cartoons, that more often than not show up in fanfics I, of course, have not seen them in action and therefore might not be able to interpret their characters right. I am using mostly what I've learned through the movie (and maybe fanfics) and while catching some ideas here and there I am mainly using my very own ideas for things like energon, space bridges and so on.

And not to forget, much thanks to Taralynden for betareading.

* * *

><p>No one had ever suspected anything. Even after all this time, all the vorns gone by of war and despair, of loss and hope, of separation and the sweet promise of reunion, not a single bot had known they were anything more than friends.<p>

In the beginning, they simply got along well, something that already surprised a lot of mecha. After all, one was the spitting image of chaos, the other the calm and order during the storm. Yet, it turned out they both had a knack for tactics. And while both worked in totally different manners, one drafting a rough plan only to improvise during action, while the other prefered to have the whole picture and creating the best case scenario that would hopefully be put into action flawlessly, it was obvious to them from their very first introduction that their characters were complementing the other's flaws.

Of course, the bots noticed that soon he was dragged along by his new comrade for energon, which he usually either forgot to take at all, or did so when alone. But HE would not have it, of course. And that was the start of their friendship. A friendship that their comrades thought was treated just like his friend treated every other bot he befriended.

It helped that most of the mecha did not exactly care what he did in his free time, mostly even whispering behind his back, that he did not even know the meaning of the word. And his friend was stealthy and valued their little time alone. Which meant no one ever found out when his comrade wanted to visit him.

Through talks and games he found out more about the other, while he allowed him to find out more about himself. They learned that they had even more in common. Like a love for music, a deep sense of justice and a humour that one showed openly while the other hid it behind a mask of stoic indifference.

Personally he thought it was inevitable that they should fall in love with each other. They did not bond; of course not. War made a bonding, where one would die with the other, far too risky for their friends. To lose their best saboteur as well as their best tactician would have been devestating for the Autobot cause.

But just because they did not bond, did not mean they did not share regularly and intensively so. It was another thing they discovered to have in common. Both were wild and dominating in the berth and their interfacing session often ended in pleasurable fights, that brought them the most intense overloads they'd so far experienced in their lives. His friend and lover once admitted jokingly that still waters did indeed run deep.

Sadly enough while keeping their relationship secret ensured in the safety of no Decepticon being able to realise their weakness and try to blackmail them, it also meant that long separations for special missions were only logical.

The day came when they had to separate. One was to travel with a small group of bots into space in search of the Allspark. The other to command the rest of the Autobots during their leader's absence into the fight with the Decepticons left on Cybertron.

Many, many vorns went by before finally the Autobots received word from Optimus Prime and the offer to seek asylum on a small organic planet called Earth.

He arrived with a small group of Autobots, under them his protege Bluestreak and Sunstreaker one of the infamous twins, Sideswipe, the other, already waiting for his beloved brother on Earth. Neither Bluestreak nor the twins ever suspected that there had been anything going on between him and his lover. And they were the closest bots he had that he would go as far as to call them "family".

The Autobots mostly thought they were comrades who worked well together. Therefore no one bothered to be too cautious with the news. In fact, those who did not specifically ask about his lover, like the twins, would not even be told anything. It was a logical step to take. They still had a war to fight and every single message of another comrade offline pulled the spirit of the Autobots down. In the past it had been his beloved who put the bots back together. But now, he was gone.

* * *

><p>Prowl had realised that fact as soon as he touched down Earth and found Optimus Prime, Ratchet and Irohide waiting for their little group. Sideswipe also came along, his bond with his twin telling of the landing and the Autobot tactician and second in command could just imagine how the stubborn twin peskered Optimus Prime to take him along so he could see his brother.<p>

To say Prowl felt grief when he realised Jazz was not there, as he would have been supposed to be in his position as substantive second in command, was an understatement. But he did not allow the waves of emotions to claim him. If he had been honest with himself that cycle, he would have embraced nothing less than lying down and just joining his lover within the Well of Allsparks.

However, he was aware that the war was far from over. They had a fight to continue and the Autobots needed him. Therefore he started to work right away, not caring that some mecha found it strange for him to throw himself into work, without even asking after friends and comrades.

Orns went by. In fact Prowl found himself working himself nearly into termination for nearly a quarter of vorns, doing his best, giving his all to finally, finally end the war. Some certainly started to wonder why he never asked to see Jazz's remains. Even if not all understood immediately, a lot fo the new arrived Autobots knew about Jazz's promotion for the mission and they wondered about his absence, when he was supposed to be with their Prime.

Prowl tried to never think about nor ask for Jazz's whereabouts. It would not help him any because deep in his spark he knew the answer and he also suspected he would not be of any help if he was to see for himself what his spark already mourned over.

But now, after over a quarter of a vorn, the war was finally over, the Autobots had won and Earth was safe, once again. With peace came the time where Prowl's tactical knowledge was no longer needed regularly. Of course, his knowledge still was a valuable function for planning the mecha's future. But peace did not keep the bots busy every klick during a cycle.

And not being busy forced the Autobot second in command to face his loss once and for all. He could feel the deep hole in his spark. Bonded or not, it honestly felt like he lost a piece of his spark, no matter how stupid that sounded. To face his sadness and the slowly developing depression, Prowl began to leave the base for joors at a time. It did not take long for him to find a place where he was in peace and allowed all the grief and sadness to come out in loud, wailing keens.

After he was done expressing his grief, he often started to think and remember the past. He recalled the smallest things, sweet nothings and gestures between his beloved and himself. But most of all, every time he recalled a memory, Prowl noticed a thing or two, he would regret.

For example the time Jazz tried to persuade him to skip the last breem of his working shift, or when the saboteur wanted to go out for a drive and Prowl deemed it not safe enough. One memory though, stuck to Prowl especially.

It had been during one of the few victory parties, their base had after a successful attack against the Decepticons. The bots had been happy, the high grade was flowing and even Prowl could not help but like the music that had been playing. Jazz was busy going from mecha to mecha, prompting to dance. When he arrived Prowl, no one thought anything of it when Jazz also tried to persuade the second in command to dance.

"Come on, Prowler", Jazz begged. "Ya just have t' dance, at least once."

But Prowl had successfully denied the offer. Jazz had not taken it too badly, but the tactician soon realised that it must have been something the saboteur wished to perform, because no later than them being alone in their secretly shared quarters, Jazz asked one more time for Prowl to dance, this time pointing out that no one was there with them to witness. Prowl however had declined again, telling his lover that he was not comfortable with the idea of dancing, no matter if they were alone or not.

Now though, when Prowl remembered that event back then, he deeply regretted his decision not to dance. What he would not do if he could accept Jazz's invitation to dance at least once. One more time, if he could have one more time with Jazz, he could redeem so many of these mistakes.

The Autobot tactician was so deeply lost in his thoughts, that at first he did not notice the music. When finally the soft sounds made it through the haze though, he was not sure what to think of it. He was out in the middle of nowhere. In fact, it should have been impossible for any music to be heard this far away out. And there was no one nearby who could have been responsible for the soft sounds.

While looking around and wondering if maybe the memory of that party and Jazz asking him to dance made him finally glitch and hear things that were not there, Prowl realised that dawn would soon arrive. The taletell morning mist had already gathered, making it hard to see through the fog, though even with the limited visibility his senses worked fine and they told him that indeed no one was there.

The tactician was all the more surprised was, of course, when he suddenly registered the dark shape of an approaching being through the fog. His senses still told him there was nothing, even if his optics said a different thing. But when the nearing figure was close enough that he could recognise the form, it was clear why Prowl could not sense the presence at all, especially the spark.

"Jazz!" the Autobot second in command whispered in shocked disbelief. The silver form of his dead lover stood in front of him, smiling softly. The music, Prowl was hearing, came from the saboteur's speakers, still playing softly.

"Heya, Prowler!" Jazz greeted the tactician and his voice sounded a bit off. Hollow, like they were in the middle of a cave where voices would echo off the walls.

"Impossible!" Prowl choked, optics glowing brightly with emotions.

The supposedly dead saboteur came closer. So close, that he could touch the tactician, which he did. The touch was warm, yet cold at the same time. It was a strange feeling. And while Prowl was still struggling with the absurdity and impossibility of the situation, he could not deny that the touch was welcome.

"Why should it be impossible?" Jazz softly asked. "Ah could see yer pain an' could hear yer spark callin' for me. It was so strong, Ah simply couldn't bear t' watch any longer, Ah had t' see ya, t' reassure ya."

"This is not logical", Prowl rasped out and he could already feel the first signs of an upcoming crash.

"Prowl, love, do ya really want t' waste yer precious time wit' crashin' over somethin' illogical?" Jazz softly asked, voice and face calm. "After all, Ah'm here an' Ah want t' help ya. So, does it really matter, what's going on, what's logical, if all ya should care is that Ah'm here?"

It was enough to prevent the worst. Because in the end, the saboteur was right. Prowl did not care about dreams or reality, he just wanted Jazz to be there, to stay, to never leave him again.

Jazz, who had always been better than anyone else at reading his lover and best friend's emotions, smiled slightly when he realised Prowl accepting the impossible.

"Dance wit' meh?" the saboteur asked softly. In answer the second in command nearly clung to the silver, smaller body of his beloved and nodded his head yes.

Chuckling Jazz changed the music for a fitting melody. The song now playing was still soft and slow, a Cybertronian love song that Jazz himself had sung to his lover so many times in secret inside their shared quarters. Their bodies swayed together, the saboteur leading, Prowl letting go of everything, allowing his mind and his body to float with the moment, to simply follow Jazz's movements and to enjoy the here and now.

The two bots danced like this for what felt like joors to Prowl. In truth barely three breems had past. The night was coming to an end. The first rays of sunlight already lightened the sky, trying to penetrate the fog.

"Ya're a great dancer, Prowler", Jazz whispered tenderly, before slightly chuckling. "Ah don't know what ya've ever been afraid of. Ya would've done great."

"I am sorry, Jazz", Prowl simply replied, explanations about his refusal in the past unnecessary in such a precious moment. "Though I am only as good because you are guiding me so well."

"Don't worry about it, love", the saboteur reassured, before slowly coming to a stop. "Ya'd do great even wit'out meh!"

They stood there into each other's embrace for a long time, both of them basking in the presence of the other. Finally Jazz moved slightly and looked up into the faceplates of the mech he loved with his entire spark.

"Ah'm sorry, Prowler", he sighed, "but it's time for meh t' go."

The tactician's immediate reaction was to tighten his embrace.

"Don't", he choked out, voice absent of the control over emotions he usually had. Instead desperation and fear could be heard within the tone. "Jazz, please, don't leave me again. I can't bear it. Not now, not when the war is finally over. I have nothing left but a lot of time to think and remember. My spark cannot bear it."

The second in command stopped, his body trembling while Jazz made small, shooing noises, trying to soothe him as best as he could.

"Jazz, please", Prowl finally whispered. "I am aware we did not bond, but I still feel like my spark has been ripped out. This is not living, this is agony. Please stop it, don't leave me alone again!"

"Prowler", the saboteur murmured, shock and deep emotion at the same time swinging within his voice. "Ah'm really not sure if it's th' right thing t' simply leave them behind. Ya know? Yer friends. They'd miss ya, don't ya realise?"

"But they will cope", Prowl answered, voice and demeanour suddenly calm, collected. "Bluestreak has the twins, as much as I still loathe to admit that I am happy about this. The war is over, we have peace. The Autobots are starting to be in higher spirits again and everyone can do whatever they always wanted to do. I am no longer needed, not my skills at least. It's the only thing that kept me going, the knowledge that they needed my tactical advice, that it was an important factor for winning the war. But no more, Jazz, no more. I have done everything that has been expected of me and more. Things are all right now for the others. But they will not be all right for me, never for me. I need you, Jazz. So please, don't leave me behind now!"

Jazz was silent for a long time. During his wait for an answer, Prowl's grip tightened, going as far as pressing into the sides of the saboteur's body in fear that any moment his lover might vanish in front of his optics. He was so very much afraid to let go. The deceased head of special ops however did not vanish. Instead a sigh-like noise escaped him and the silver head came to rest right against the place where Prowl's spark was hidden.

"Ah can see what ya mean", Jazz admitted sadly. "But Ah don't like it. All Ah've ever cared for was for ya t' live. Preferably t' live for both o' us. Ah'm sorry that Ah left ya, Prowler. It wasn't honestly mah idea of action but ya of all bots understand th' meaning of sacrifices, don't ya? Still, it's obvious t' meh now that mah wish simply isn't working. Or maybe, Ah'm more selfish than Ah'm ever comfortable t' admit. No matter th' reason, Ah always had a hard time t' deny ya anythin' anyway, beloved. Therefore, Ah guess we'll stay t'gether for longer. Ya'll stay wit' meh. But ya're aware that it means leaving yer friends behind, aren't ya?"

Prowl nodded his head, body held straight and face serious looking as always.

"As I said, Jazz, they will cope, they don't need me. They might miss me, but they are not dependant on me as I am on you, Jazz."

Jazz mouthplates formed into a smile, one quite beautiful even if a bit sad on the edges because they both knew about the consequences of their actions and decisions.

"Dance wit' meh some more?" Jazz asked and Prowl nodded, a smile of his own forming on his face. The saboteur started a new set of music and the two bots swung around again, bodies locked onto each other, their posture content and happy. The rising sun slowly began to illuminate their plating. Dawn was chasing away the fog, which started to slowly dissipate. And just like the mist in the air, the forms of the two contently dancing bots seemed to disintegrate with the fog until all that was left was the dying sound of the music till even that was gone.

And when the sun had risen higher, it shone down onto a clear and beautiful field of green grass, free of any fog or ghostly figures. The only thing of the night left behind was the lone body of a Cybertronian mech leaning against an old tree, form motionless and grey.

* * *

><p>It was Sunstreaker who found Prowl joors later. After the tactician had been gone for most of the night and day, not answering his comm and his spark signature unable to be registered by any of the Autobots, they had gotten worried and organised search parties to find their missing comrade and friend.<p>

It was the golden twin, a mech who had been closer to the Autobot tactician than the rest of the bots, who spotted the unmoving, grey form of his friend.

Ratchet was never able to resolve what happened to Prowl. All he could tell the others was that his spark seemed to have simply extinguished. And another thing turned out to be strange. Those who had first arrived on Earth all those stellar-cycles ago knew very well the place Prowl's body had been found. It was the place Jazz had been put to rest, after his death. The grave that was not marked in fear of Decepticons raiding it for spare parts. The place that Prowl had not been told about because he had never asked. How he ended up dead there of all places remained a mystery for all of the Autobots.

The same went for the smile that could be seen on the grey form's faceplates. Prowl had died with a smile upon his face. He must have felt happy, something especially Bluestreak and the twins took care to remember for comfort. Prowl might be gone, but he did not leave unhappily or in pain, that much seemed obvious.

The Autobots never found out anything about the deepest secret of their late head of ops and head tactician. Only one bot could sometimes be found looking into the direction he knew Jazz's and now Prowl's body rested at. He out of all mecha remembered the little details, the small gestures everyone else had overlooked while he could not help to notice after all that time working closely together with his second and third in command.

And sometimes, when Optimus Prime stood outside of their base, watching the stars, he thought he could hear quiet music and see the shadowed forms of his two friends dancing through the sky, while watching down on them with smiles on their faceplates.

And Optimus thought, that it was good just as it was. They would have time to catch up someday and be told the truth. One day, when all became one.

The End


	3. Week Three

Title: Behind closed doors  
>Part: 11  
>Author: Usagi-Atemu-Tom<br>Anniversary Challenges: Week three prompt – #12  
>Genre: slash, romance<br>Warnings: slightly sad, small fluff, a bit humour  
>Pairings: JazzProwl

Feedback: Please, yes, I love feedback! =^^=

Summary: The question who of the Autobots loves to sing, dance and perform seems obvious to answer. But it is a secret, now only exposed behind closed doors between two mechs, which reveals the true answer to that question. It was what brought them together. And it is what will always keep them from falling apart.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine I don't make money with it and write only for fun and to get better in writing English. ^_^

Helpful Pointers:  
>Vorn - 83 years<br>Stellar-cycle – 7.5 months  
>Orn - 13 days<br>Joor - 8 hours  
>Breem - 6 minutes<br>Astrosecond - 5/6ths of a second  
>Klick - 1 millisecond<p>

"..." - Speaking  
>.../ – Sparkbond speaking

Please note that I've only ever watched the two movies from 2007 and 2009. While I've 'met' a lot of Transformers from the comics and cartoons, that more often than not show up in fanfics I, of course, have not seen them in action and therefore might not be able to interpret their characters right. I am using mostly what I've learned through the movie (and maybe fanfics) and while catching some ideas here and there I am mainly using my very own ideas for things like energon, space bridges and so on.

Also, this story is mostly 'verse-neutral, so you might be able to still put it into G1 even if I had Bayverse in mind.

And not to forget, much thanks to Taralynden for betareading.

* * *

><p>"Ah like yer voice!"<p>

On a good day, Jazz used to sing and dance as much as he could, but on the days where even the fun loving saboteur felt sad and depressed, Prowl sang and danced with him behind the closed doors of their quarters. No one besides Jazz knew Prowl had a beautiful voice.

* * *

><p>"Ah like yer voice!"<p>

It had been the beginning. Their first meeting. The first shared secret of many to come.

* * *

><p>"Ah like yer voice!"<p>

Prowl turned around from the mirror where he was in the middle of taking off the fake colours he usually wore during his performances to face the speaker that was leaning against the frame of his door.

His faceplates showed his obvious shock and surprise, and if his expression alone had not been enough indication, his Praxian doorwings, held stiffly in a sharp v-form, only enhanced the fact that the sudden visitor was neither expected nor welcomed.

"Who are you? And how did you get into the artist's section?" the young Praxian grouched, the pads in his servos showing the fake blue and red colours that were still partly covering his mostly white frame.

His visitor, an equally young mech of black and white colouring with a blue visor framing his face, had already taken a closer look, assessing the situation and realised the mistake he made by barging into the room especially without knocking as would have been polite.

Throwing the angry mech a look that was both apologetic and sheepish, he decided to start by answer the demand for identification.

"Sorry for intrudin', name's Jazz", the young visitor told him. "But ya might recognise meh under th' designation Chantsong. Ah was th' mech performin' after ya. Durin' th' wait, Ah was listenin' t' yer voice an' Ah love it so much Ah've been wantin' t' meet ya in person ever since."

Prowl, after hearing the name Chantsong, calmed down a bit now that he knew it was not a simple fan who intruded backstage but a fellow performer who invaded his room. Still his body held most of the tension, his whole posture guarded and he honestly could say he was far from happy, even if he was willing to acknowledge the other now.

"Chantsong, yes I know you. Though I cannot say that I recognise your frame, which makes me wonder."

Jazz, as he had introduced himself, had by now grabbed one own his arms and rubbed his servo over it in a nervous gesture.

"Ah'm really sorry for bargin' in. Ah honestly hadn't expected someone else like meh. An' t' ease yer mistrust, Ah'm special ops in trainin'. Performin 's part of mah current mock task. Ah'm supposed to cover as someone else an' fool everyone. Lucky for meh since Ah really love t' sing an' dance, so this's somethin' Ah do really well. After mah own performance, Ah had a briefin' wit' mah mentor an' mah looks were changed back since lessons have ended for today. Ah've been so afraid that Ah mighta missed th' chance t' meet ya, Ah totally forgot t' knock."

Done with his rushed and excited tale, Jazz looked at Prowl with an expectant gaze, obvious even with the visor covering his optics, apparently pleading for forgiveness. The young Praxian simply studied the special ops trainee for a moment, thinking his explanations over.

"You words sound honest enough", Prowl conceded, "however even if you are a trainee, do your teachers not tell you that you should not tell the next mech you meet about your cover?"

"Yes, of course they do", Jazz answered, laughing. "But Ah noticed th' fake colour ya're currently takin' down. Therefore Ah conclude Softflow's certainly not yer real designation an' ya're more concerned that Ah might've glimpsed yer true identity than about th' fact that Ah might've been an intruder t' th' backstage. So Ah, decided that t' risk an' fail this task is a small price t' pay t' try an' make up for mah mistake."

Both mechs paused in their doings, studying each other anew until the young ops trainee could not help himself but give voice to something he noticed.

"Is that black under yer fake colour? That's so cool mah favourite singer has th' same colouring as me."

Prowl could not help but stare in disbelief as the mech danced around his room, door long since closed behind him. Such a simple fact could make someone this happy? In all his time since creation he never met anyone who was this easily excited. Shaking his head a sudden burst of amusement that he could not help, the young Praxian watched his fellow performer dancing and studying his room before finally addressing him again.

"As much as I appreciate your praise and excitement about my person, I would be really thankful if you would allow me to continue taking off my cover as I have to be at work in about half a joor."

Jazz abruptly stopped his escapades and turned to the exasperated looking mech, looking sheepish again.

"Sorry, mech", he apologised, "Ah've got carried away again. But ya just have such a wonderful voice. Ah loved hearing ya sing an' now t' find out we've somethin' else in common just makes mah day."

"Thank you, Jazz."

"No, problem, mech!" the young special ops trainee smiled. "Well, Ah'm leavin' ya t' take care of ya cover now. Though, are ya willin' t' tell meh if ya perform again? Ah would love t' hear ya singin' once more."

Prowl considered the request for an astrosecond before he nodded.

"Yes, I will perform as often as I can here in Praxus. You will either find me here in other small energon bars around this district because it's the safest place to not risk exposure to mecha I know."

His decision to answer honestly was obviously the right one because Jazz was certainly glowing with happiness. If he had not felt so strangely happy himself about the other's antics, he might have thought the actions quite illogical.

"Thank ya!" the young trainee beamed before turning to the door. "Ah'm leavin' ya now an' Ah hope t' see an' hear ya again."

He opened the door and was just about to step out when Prowl held the mech back.

"Jazz?"

"Yes?"

"Your performance was not bad yourself! I like your voice as well."

Even though he could not see it, Prowl knew that the beaming smile on Jazz's faceplates had intensified.

* * *

><p>Three orns went by before Prowl and Jazz met again. This time it was Jazz who was surprised by an unexpected visit from the mech he had come to idolise after hearing him sing only once.<p>

The young special ops agent was still in the middle of his current mock task, covering as a stage artist. Without this being the plan, Chantsong had become quite popular. It went so far that he had to record some soundfiles for the Cybertronian population and this time he had a concert in Praxus that was quite a lot bigger than the gig at the small energon bar he started things with.

To be honest, his teachers had not been happy but Jazz was still young and he really did enjoy the rush of performing as well as a chance to sing and dance, something he would have decided to do earnestly had special ops not sounded more appealing and varied to him. With a bigger concert came tighter security and with security came the request to accept a personal bodyguard.

Since Jazz was of the opinion that nothing bad could happen and because of his age, the chief of enforcers in the end was able to talk him into at least accepting an enforcer who had just finished training and was around his age. If nothing else, the two of them might understand each other well, though Jazz had the strange feeling that the chief doubted his own arguments. He wondered if maybe the enforcer that was supposed to watch him was deaf or hated music or something.

His bodyguard arrived when he was in the middle of putting on last touches to the frame he used when acting as Chantsong. At first he did not pay much attention, too busy with polishing. He only saw a glimpse of the young enforcer in the mirror. Praxian built, with graceful doorwings held proud and high, not unexpected as he was performing in Praxus. His bodyguard seemed to be mech-build and the colouring was black and white. It would have fitted well to his original body, Jazz could not help but notice with a secret smile.

There was a short greeting from his side, before he concentrated on the small speck of dirt on his armour he noticed earlier. But even while being busy with polishing, he could feel the optics of his bodyguard on his frame, silently studying him. Not that he minded. It was only when the enforcer finally addressed him, that Jazz felt like someone had hit him over the head.

"Good evening, Jazz!"

The young special ops trainee spun around fast, speck of mud all but forgotten. His mouth already opened in, he did not even know what he was about to say, but that also got lost when he finally LOOKED at the enforcer properly.

Regal doorwings, a white frame heavily accentuated with black spots, glowing blue optics and while the faceplates seemed to show nothing but seriousness, Jazz was able to detect the amusement of the other in the warm light of the optics. He needed a moment to recover from the surprise of being addressed by his real designation, but he certainly recognised him then.

"Ya're Softflow", Jazz whispered, his tone a mixture of awe and surprise. Then his face changed and a grin of excitement lightened his features. "Ya're an enforcer! Mech, ya're not even so far off from what Ah do. We both want t' protect mecha wit' what we do. Primus this is a surprise but such a great one. Softflow's takin' th' job of protectin' meh."

The young trainee would have gladly danced around the room, but at the last second he remembered that he would ruin his nearly finished job of cleaning his frame for the upcoming concert and therefore he kept himself content with cheerfully grinning at the enforcer like crazy. That was until he remembered his confusion about the doubting tone of the chief, when he suggested his bodyguard and him might be able to get on well with each other.

"Say, when yer chief pointed out we're of th' same age, he didn't sound like he was confident we'll get along well. Willin' t' tell meh why not?"

The face of the enforcer stayed the way it was, not one part as much as twitching. The glow of his optics dimmed in a small sign of exasperation however.

"I have a small reputation of taking my work **too seriously**and acting **too stoically**", the young enforcer calmly explained, though Jazz, with his excellent hearing, was able to notice the small sigh that escaped the other by letting air through his vents. "My colleagues think of me as interesting and expressive as a drone doing paperwork. They doubt there is anything that can excite or interest me. At least that would be the most logical explanation for my chief's expression."

Jazz could not help but shake his head in disbelief.

"Bah, they know nothin'! Ya have a beautiful voice. Yer dancin' is th' most expressive Ah've ever seen an' right now ya show enough emotions that Ah can't help but question if yer colleagues even troubled themselves to look close enough."

The mech, Jazz noted after he was finished with his rant, looked very obviously torn between embarrassment and thankfulness. Seemed not enough mecha had complimented this one and Jazz made a note in the back of his processor to do so more often.

"So, Softflow, since Ah'm ready t' go t' stage now, would ya like t' accompany meh an' tell meh what ya think of th' performance afterwards over a cube of energon?"

The enforcer watched him for a long moment, checking him over, considering the offer. Finally a small, barely there smile made its appearance on his lipplates.

"I would like that", the young Praxian finally answered. He held open the door so Jazz could step through. "And Jazz?"

"Mmmh? The young ops trainee looked over his shoulder at the enforcer that was supposed to protect him this night.

"My real designation is Prowl!"

The wide smile Jazz showed after those words could have lit up the stage all by itself.

* * *

><p>After that night Jazz and Prowl became close - best friends. Even though Prowl was working as an enforcer in Praxus and Jazz was a Polihexian who did his special ops training in Iacon, they used every bit of their free time to spend with each other. They even performed together more often than not, especially after Jazz was no longer required to use the cover of Chantsong for his training.<p>

Jazz, with the skills he learned in special ops, was able to alienate the frame of Softflow so much from Prowl's original form that he no longer had to fear being discovered by mecha who knew the enforcer. Soon Softflow was known to be the skilled singer who tended to perform with Chantsong in beautiful duets and the crowd loved them both.

As time went by, Prowl's work as an enforcer increased and Jazz's own training took more of his time than ever before. Concerts for their alternate identities became rare and therefore extra special for the fans. It was one of many reasons why Jazz and Prowl enjoyed their free time together as performers even more. They sang and danced with everything they had, not knowing when the next time would be that they would be able to do this.

* * *

><p>And then, one day everything changed.<p>

Riots had been building up in all parts of Cybertron. Unhappy mecha, mecha who were seeking for power. The shouts for change grew louder and louder. Already attacks had happened in isolated parts of different cities. Factions were developing. Two of the most noted were the Autobots, who tried to solve problems peacefully and to protect those who needed help, and the Decepticons, mostly military based mecha who were noted for their aggression and ruthlessness. So far the incidents had been minor, though alarming. Then, however, came the totally unexpected attack on Praxus. From one astrosecond to the other, Decepticons from ground and sky raided the great, proud city that had been successful to stay neutral thus far into the conflict.

Prowl had been in Iacon when it happened, half an orn remaining from his break with the enforcers which he used to spent with Jazz as he always did. It was their celebration of Jazz's successful completion of his special ops training. They had been performing on a big concert in Iacon, been in the middle of a dancing session, when everything was interrupted for the horrible news to be relayed on every speaker and screen present. Cybertron itself seemed to hold its breath as reports and pictures went all around the planet, shocking those who listened and watched.

For Prowl, a Praxian who called that city his home, it was hard not to break down from shock. First he did not want to believe it, tried to stay calm and collected, listing off all the logical reasons why this could not be true. In the end they flew to Praxus personally, two of the many who flocked to help the Autobots search for survivors.

To see the destruction was nearly too much for both of them. Prowl especially, since this was his home, but Jazz also suffered because he associated many wonderful memories from this town, the most precious the one where he met Prowl for the first time. Together, while struck with grief and shock, the combed through the rubble of destruction, even though there was little hope for them to find anyone alive, not nearly four joors after the attack.

Fate decided otherwise though. After another half joor had gone by, the enforcer and special ops agent discovered a miracle in form of a small, grey Praxian youngling by the designation of Bluestreak. He was scared and injured but obviously alive and in good enough health. The little one and three other, adult mecha, turned out to be the only survivors of one of Cybertron's biggest cities.

Jazz had been grief stricken during their whole search. Prowl, on the other hand, hurt so badly he was past the point where he could express the grief he felt. For this reason, a lot of the other helpers looked at him strangely, called him sparkless for not grieving while others who were not even Praxians were doing just that.

Jazz, close and protective friend that he had become - a mech who knew and was able to see the pain where others did not - snapped more than once at the mecha surrounding them, going as far as attacking one of them after an especially hurtful comment aimed at Prowl.

Calm only came after even the last gave up and Autobots and helpers alike left the ruins that had once been a beautiful city. That night, when everyone was gone, Prowl and Jazz found themselves right at the centre of the city. They sat there at the highest point they could reach without danger of the debris breaking in and Prowl started to sing softly, Jazz joining only moments later. They sang a lullaby to the city that had gone into recharge, to the mecha that would never online again. They sat there, their voices drifting softly over the destruction, leaving the ground and climbing high into the sky. Jazz leaned against Prowl's frame, seeking and offering support at the same time while their song drifted through the night.

It was the last time Prowl ever sang in public. After that night, after the destruction that took place he could no longer bring himself to perform in front of a crowd ever again. Softflow had died together with the rest of the city of Praxus. The last and only one to ever hear him sing, was Jazz, who stood by his side and performed with him.

And as the night was over, the pain finally being expressed and let out, Prowl and Jazz became closer than ever. Together, they joined the Autobots, determined to offer all they had to help preventing such a disaster as it happened in Praxus.

* * *

><p>Time went by fast. Former enforcer and now tactical officer as well as special ops agent and saboteur for the Autobots quickly climbed through the ranks just as quickly as their relationship changed into something special. Before they knew it, Prowl had become second in command, Jazz third under Optimus Prime. And the couple themselves were bonded. An action, while dangerous, they did not wish to deny themselves, not when they came to depend on each other as much as they did.<p>

The war had started for real between Autobots and Decepticons, a war that led the fighting mecha to leave their planet behind, to leave it dying and without hope, only to find new hope and a new home on a small organic planet called Earth.

During this journey, Prowl and Jazz had to go through hardships. They nearly lost the other more than once, never sure if their bond would allow them to stay together if the worst came to pass, or if one was forced to go on without the other. It was something that differed from bonded to bonded, always unsure, never known for certain until proven.

By the time both bonded were on Earth the war had ended once before sadly starting again. Their duties were calling and Jazz, as special ops agent and saboteur as well as the unofficial morale officer, had a lot on his servos to take care of, to keep the tide on their side and the comrades hopeful and happy.

It never occurred to most of the Autobots that Jazz could be anything than happy and enthusiastic, singing and dancing his way around during free times or trying to pester Prowl to abandon his work and spend some quality time either in their berth or with their comrades and friends in the recreation room.

No one ever thought that Jazz could be anything but cheerful. That would be just as unheard of as Prowl suddenly starting to dance and sing in their midst. How could they ever guess, of course if their third in command never allowed them to see what they should not?

* * *

><p>Jazz returned from his mission in a manner as if he was still inside a Decepticon base. Skilfully avoiding the cameras belonging to Red Alert and the human guard duty on base, the saboteur silently crept through the base they called home until he finally reached the rooms he was sharing with his bondmate.<p>

Prowl, the only one besides Optimus aware of Jazz's return thanks to their bond - Prowl had informed his Prime the moment he felt the arrival, together with the request for a break as well as to not announce the saboteur's return until further notice - was already waiting inside.

The moment the door closed behind the ops agent, his frame sunk into itself and a soft, sparkbroken keen made itself known from the saboteur's lipplates.

/All lost/, Jazz sent tiredly over their bond. /They were killed before Ah could do anythin'. If Ah woulda just been faster. Maybe Ah coulda saved at least one. Three bots, Prowl, three lives lost. Again./

He broke down into the tactician's waiting arms with strong, though silent sobs, the light keening continuing for a long time.

/Hush, love, hush!/ Prowl sent back over the bond, followed by feelings of love and strength. /It's not your fault! You are the fastest mech we know. If you could not save them in time then their lives were already lost, as much as it pains to admit that. There was nothing you could do!/

Slowly Prowl started to swing his frame, bodyplates vibrating under the quiet hum he let out together with his movements. Soon the tactician was leading his bondmate around their room in a soothing dance, his voice singing to his bondmate one calming song after another until finally Jazz stopped his keening and joined his bondmate in the dance and singing he had started - for now calmed down and comforted.

* * *

><p>On a good day, Jazz used to sing and dance as much as he could, but on the days where even the fun loving saboteur felt sad and depressed, Prowl sang and danced with him behind the closed doors of their quarters. No one besides Jazz knew Prowl had a beautiful voice.<p>

"Ah like yer voice!" Jazz whispered softly, before he allowed himself to get lost in a deep, sensual kiss with his bondmate. Lipplates occupied and quite unwilling to let go any time soon of their counterparts, Jazz added his final thought through their bond.

/It's what made meh fall 'n love wit' ya first!/

The End


	4. Week Four  Reveal

Title: A hidden femme's secret  
>Subtitle: Reveal<br>Part: 1/3  
>Author: Usagi-Atemu-Tom<br>Verse: TF-Bayverse

Anniversary Challenges: Week four prompts  
># A hidden femme's secret (Wild card prompt)<br># A dream worth keeping

Rating: PG 17  
>Genre: romance, dark, angst<br>Warnings: death (no main character), discussions of rape, abuse, slavery and abortion  
>Pairings: JazzProwl  
>Feedback: Please, yes, I love feedback! =^^=<p>

Summary: A bonding ceremony is supposed to be a happy event. So why does one trusted Autobot go nuts at the sight of the joyful family unit, leaving everyone but a shy femme deactivated right in front of the Prime? As the saying goes: There is more to this than meets the eye.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine I don't make money with it and write only for fun and to get better in writing English. ^_^

Helpful Pointers:  
>Vorn - 83 years<br>Stellar-cycle - 7.5 months  
>Orn - 13 days<br>Joor - 8 hours  
>Breem - 6 minutes<br>Astrosecond - 5/6ths of a second  
>Klick - 1 millisecond<p>

Please note that I've only ever watched the two movies from 2007 and 2009. While I've 'met' a lot of Transformers from the comics and cartoons, that more often than not show up in fanfics I, of course, have not seen them in action and therefore might not be able to interpret their characters right. I am using mostly what I've learned through the movie (and maybe fanfics) and while catching some ideas here and there I am mainly using my very own ideas for things like energon, space bridges and so on.

And not to forget, much thanks to Taralynden for betareading.

* * *

><p>Peace, Prowl reflected, felt great and surreal at the same time. The Autobot second in command was sitting behind his desk inside one of the many buildings that had been erected after the government allowed the Autobots and Decepticons a piece of land in one of the bigger and, for humans, harder to penetrate valleys somewhere within the USA.<p>

The mecha who built their city together inside that valley designated their new home "Cybertron City" which, after a half hearted joke from Sideswipe, soon became "Tron City", much to the dismay of mecha like Prowl, Ratchet or Chromia, who did not have much love for nicknames - all three of them after all were victims with a nickname of their own.

Thinking about it now, the Autobot tactician could honestly say that ten years ago no one would have thought that the war could be over so soon. After all, Optimus had just died by Megaton's hand and was reanimated by a human teenager. Megatron himself had been brought back to functioning as well, therefore ending the short one year period of peace the Autobots on Earth had had.

When Prowl arrived on Earth half a year after the events in Egypt and learned not only about Jazz's brush with permanent deactivation - it took the saboteur five Earth years for his spark to strengthen enough to return for his job and the fact that through all the time Jazz and Ratchet had constant fights, because even weak and injured as he was, the saboteur refused with all he had about having to expose his spark to the medical officer, no matter how trustworthy Ratchet was - but the revival of Megatron and Optimus after each of them had died once, he feared, that another thousand vorns of fighting were going to come.

However, as various Decepticons later reported, soon after the death of the Fallen Megatron started to act strangely. They were only small things at the beginning, but through the next five years the leader of the Decepticons started to refuse to threaten and get non Cybertronians involved into their conflict, except those who were fighting side by side with the Autobots.

Then Megatron started to refuse to kill bots if he could help it, until in the end he contacted Optimus Prime in a desperate fit and demanded a cease fire and pleaded for Autobots and Decepticons to work together to find a way to save not only Cybertron but also avoid the extinguishing of their race.

Megatron's change of mind came as a surprise to both factions. Mistrust of course was great at the beginning of this working together. Neither Decepticons nor Autobots knew anymore how to handle the other side peacefully after this long time of energon spilling conflicts. Also, both groups had their reasons why they fought for their comrades, something they believed in with all their sparks.

A lot of Decepticons were on Megatron's side because they had suffered through or found out about the corruption the council executed right behind Optimus Prime's back. While Optimus and Megatron were the highest ranking beings on their planet, the council, it turned out, were the true rulers back then on Cybtertron and they did a lot of things not in the favour of the Cybertronian mecha. Megatron had discovered this and in his shock and hurt made contact with the Fallen, whose influence soon led into that all-consuming, painful war.

It took three more years after the cease fire before Megatron was willing to allow Ratchet, who had the reputation of being the best medic Cybertron ever had, to check him thoroughly. And then only because more than enough mecha - cons and bots alike - had insisted the former Lord High Protector to go through with this because he was acting strangely.

In that check up Ratchet found out the sad and shocking truth: Megatron had not simply been manipulated by the Fallen, but slowly reprogrammed. The old Decepticon used some sort of signal he had to refresh regularly to keep the Leader of the Decepticons in check. Even during his time frozen in the ice, Megatron's processor worked and was automatically sent those orders and ideas that he took purchase the klick he was free.

Even being deactivated and activated again did not get rid of the program. Only after the Fallen, the controller of the program died, did those programs slowly lose their grip on the former Lord High Protector, causing him to act strange and emotional.

The Decepticons took the news with mixed feelings, a lot of them fearing that with the original leaders united once again, the injustice from before might resume. However, Optimus and Megatron agreed that for now it was better to not allow a council to rule beside them. The two leaders of course needed mecha they trusted to do their bidding and help them with the ruling, but all in all they swore to make sure that something like what happened during the Golden Age behind their backs would never happen again.

Things started to look up again when, by a lucky accident alone, a rich energon well was found on Earth. That well did not only assure the survival of the current mecha living on Earth, it also turned out that the two small All Spark splinters, the only two left - one in Decepticon hands, the other kept by Optimus together with the Matrix of Leadership - gained strength from that well. First they grew together into a single shard, then that shard started to grow until soon Megatron and Optimus held a small cube between their servos.

It was decided then, that Earth would become the home of the Prime and reconfirmed Lord High Protector, at least until Cybertron was fully rebuilt again. Bad influence was less likely to reach the two rulers there and it also ensured that every mech who wished to bond or seek for the power of the All Spark, had to leave the safety of Cybertron and journey to the small, blue planet, where they had to suffer through a trial of research about their persona first, before any request would be granted and fulfilled.

As a tactician during war, it was logical that Prowl had become a planner and ambassador for those applicants for a sparkling from the All Spark and events of bonding ceremonies on Earth. Planning celebrations and being able to study the visiting mecha to get an impression of their characters always helped their Prime and the Lord High Protector with their decisions.

And for background information, especially when it came to the creation of a sparkling, he had the team of former special ops agents at his service. Jazz and his mecha did all they could to unearth secrets of mecha who tried to use the war to lose unpleasant history and more often than not, the agents were successful. It also helped that they now had Decepticon allies like Soundwave at their assistance who had collected a lot of information during those long vorns of war. It was after all the con communication specialist who had helped in the Cybertronian's plea to the Earth government to stay and be given some land to built their city. After all, Soundwave found a lot of dirt about the human politicians that was in their best interest to be hidden away.

Reflecting on all those secrets they had already discovered, Prowl thought about one of the few secrets he himself had still to resolve. It was a very personal matter because the secret included the one mech that meant the world to the tactician. It was about Jazz.

The Autobot second and third in command had become friends when they met during war. That was when both of them were still nothing but common soldiers. The war continued and their abilities helped them to climb the ladder of command until they ended up where they were most effective.

Prowl became chief tactician and Jazz ended up in special ops, in the end taking the title of head in command when his predecessor died during a surprise attack of the Decepticons. During all of this, they stayed close friends and the mostly shared everything about the other, be it happiness or pain. It was not until the end of the war that Prowl realised as close as they were, something was not right.

Maybe it should have occurred to him sooner, but during the war the Autobot second in command had not seen any illogical reasons in Jazz actions. It was about the way the saboteur acted when they became lovers. Back then Jazz came up with the interfacing sessions mostly because he realised it was a way in which Prowl could release his pent up emotions, something he badly needed to do but would not trust nor expect any Autobot to help him out with.

Jazz kept the interfacing on the surface. Only cables for data transfer, fields and tactile actions, which back then Prowl assumed was normal for a mech who was from special ops. The saboteur had to keep important secrets after all and a shallow data transfer was not deep enough to even crack the first firewall of a special ops agent.

When the Prowl arrived on Earth seven and a half years ago and learned about Jazz's near death, the relationship between them changed from friends with benefits, as human called it, to something more serious. The tactician had realised he was in love with the saboteur and even though it was dangerous, illogical and out-right stupid, the saboteur accepted and loved him back with open arms.

When the war ended Prowl thought they could finally settle down and put their relationship to the next level. However, the night he suggested to join their sparks for the first time, the saboteur became strangely clammed up and sad, telling him in a regretful voice that joining sparks was impossible for him.

The tone the special ops agent used indicated that he did not wish to answer any questions. Therefore Prowl never asked. And he also never requested to join their sparks again. Instead, to try and get Jazz out of the depression that followed that fateful night, he did his best to cheer his lover up and he gave his all more than ever during interfacing in hope that Jazz would enjoy a surface act of intimacy just as much as other bots enjoyed a deep sparkshare.

It helped, and soon things seemed to settle down, Jazz having forgotten all about that night. Though Prowl secretly wondered about his lover and he of course knew that the saboteur had not forgotten. Quite the opposite. He sometimes found Jazz watching him with an open expression of wonder and admiration that he could not deny made him think about this all even more.

Jazz, Prowl knew, still kept a secret and he wondered if the saboteur would ever trust him enough to share the burden with him. Right now though, that had to wait since the special ops agent was out on a mission to collect information about a family unit that requested the birth of a sparkling. He was expected to return within the current orn and til then the tactician had to wait and see if anything changed his lover's processor.

"Prowl?"

He was interrupted by the polite entry of Thundercracker and Lieutenant General Will Lennox sitting on the Decepticon's shoulderplate. The tactician, now chief ambassador-planner, as the Cybertronian designated the new position, nodded his head in greeting for both.

"Ambassador Thundercracker, Lieutanant General! What can I help you with?"

"Will you ever learn to call me just Will?" was the first thing the exasperated human burst from his place on the Con's shoulderplate before he realised what he just said and looked at the Autobot sheepishly while the seeker did his best to reign in his chuckles.

Venting air through his intakes, Prowl hid his own amusement behind his usual mask.

"I am sorry, Lieutanant General but since we are both on duty it is unbecoming of such high ranking officers like us to not remember protocols."

"Doesn't seem to hinder Jazz to call you 'Prowler' though", Thundercracker couldn't resist to remind, which earned him a slight glare from the Autobot and a snicker from the man he carried around right now.

"And I always reprimand Jazz for his slip of tongue as well", Prowl pointed out seriously before getting back to business. "So, to what do I owe your visit?"

"Ah yes", Will become serious as well, though with an easy smile on his face. "The family unit that asked for a bonding ceremony just arrived", he reported to the Autobot. "Thundercracker and I showed them their temporary quarters and they would now like to go through the questioning for the bonding."

"I understand", Prowl nodded his thanks to the two messengers. "Thank you for your report. Please return to your post with the family unit. I'll be with you in a moment."

Leaving a short comm. message for their Prime, Prowl secured his office and followed the Seeker and human out to the place there they usually met new arrivals.

* * *

><p>Six joors later, Jazz finally returned from his mission on Cybertron to find a thoughtful Prowl awaiting him in the living room of their shared quarters. The Autobot second in command was so lost in his thoughts, that he did not even notice the saboteur sneaking into the room where ended up leaning against a doorframe to watch his lover on the couch.<p>

"Ya look like there's somethin' quite seriously nagging on yer processor."

Jazz's sudden, amused voice startled the other badly, though the instant his optics registered the sleek and slightly smaller built mech, their blue glow lit up brighter than ever, while his doorwings quivered in excitement of his lover's final return.

"Jazz! You are back!"

"That Ah am", the saboteur confirmed and quickly crossed the distance in the room until he found himself straddling the tacticians lap to his spark's content. Energy fields brushed intimately against each other equivalent to a human's kiss and soon joined into one while the two mechs busied themselves with touching and basking in their heat of arousal, exchanging feelings of love, tenderness and cherishment until finally both found their exquisite completion in a heavy overload.

Recovering from the strenuous activity, both Autobots laid on the couch in each other's arms, silent but content. It was not until their fields had retreated fully from their joined state back to each mech, that Jazz finally raised his voice.

"So, Prowler, what happened while Ah was gone? Anythin' special or worryin'?"

Prowl snorted and looked up at the other mech still straddling him with amusement in his optics.

"Jazz, as if you do not already know everything that happened, maybe even in more detail than I. We both know how much you love to hack into Red Alert's reports just to aggravate the poor mech."

"True", the third in command admitted with a smirk, "but Ah'll have ya know that Ah only do it t' tune ma skills as special ops. Ya never know when ya might need them, so it's better t' stay 'n shape an' what better way than t' outwit our paranoid head of security. We both profit from this trainin' an' Red can stay just as content as Ah."

"Only if for once you would not succeed in hacking his files, Jazz", Prowl pointed out dryly. "Red Alert certainly does not feel happy or content when someone, even if it's a bot from our own faction, succeeds in hacking his files."

"Guess ya're right", Jazz conceded airily before he became serious again. "But honestly, Prowler, ya looked kind of worried there, so what happened that th' other mecha don't know about?"

Acknowledging that his lover and best friend knew him too well, the Autobot second in command gave in. Besides his thoughts were about a topic he had planned to discuss with Jazz anyway. It was their business after all.

"Six joors before your return a family unit arrived to request a bonding between their femme creation and a mech from Tarn. It is one femme among mechs and as you well know when it comes to femmes we are especially careful with the investigation due to the value of femmes who can produce a sparkling themselves just as the All Spark does."

Jazz mood seemed to darken at those words, but he nodded his head in understanding.

"Yeah, femmes haven't been created often an' their ability t' produce sparklin's has been heavily abused in th' past."

"Exactly", Prowl agreed. "So far our investigation turned out all right, nothing seems to be wrong with that unit, nothing at all. I had Mirage dig up dirt for this, but besides some past tickets for speeding and the usual deeds a lot of Neutrals got involved with during war, he came up with nothing."

Jazz was silent for a moment, studying the mech lying under him with an expressing belaying their positions.

"Even though Mirage 's one of mah best an' ya trust him, somethin's botherin' ya", the head of special ops finally concluded. Prowl nodded his head, faceplates calm and controlled, betraying nothing of his worry and confusion.

"When I met the family unit and the sparkmate to be, they all seemed pleasant and talk active. Only the femme, she barely interacted with us, seldom talked and to be honest the enforcer in me says that she seems to be intimidated more than anything else."

"Did ya try t' get her alone an' ask her about it?"

"Of course I did", Prowl acknowledged. "But she barely got anything out and in the end just confirmed what her creators already stated - that she is very shy around strangers. And especially this foreign planet, the humans and the Decepticons seem to frighten her quite a bit."

"Mmmmh", Jazz mused, "past experiences, especially bad ones coulda made her that way of course. But ya don't believe that either."

"No, I don't and I have no Primus forsaken reason to not believe what that family unit says", Prowl confessed with finally a touch of frustration in his voice. "There is nothing really wrong here, nothing illegal going on, no real hint to make me doubt but I do, I honestly doubt their story and I don't believe that the femme is telling the truth either. I just don't know why?"

The saboteur regarded Prowl thoughtful again. He went through what his lover told him, as well as what he knew from the reports he took from Red Alert. He mostly trusted Prowl, trusted his instincts and if his actions even went behind logic, it was a matter to take very seriously, more so than anything else Prowl said or did.

"All right, so we need t' find out what's going on behind our backs", Jazz finally concluded. "So here's th' plan. Ah read that tomorrow is th' final interview wit' Optimus. As second an' third in command we should be there. Like this Ah can first of all take a personal look at th' suspects an' maybe durin' th' usual trouble that certainly arrives while preparin' for a bondin' ceremony, Ah might be able t' hack into one of th' mecha wit'out anyone noticin'."

Prowl did not look too happy, especially about the last part of the plan.

"We are no longer at war, Jazz", the tactician pointed out. "We cannot just simply take a mech or femme and hack into them to our spark's content."

"An' normally Ah wouldn't suggest it", the saboteur replied, his whole demeanour very serious. "But ya reached a point where ya're actin' wit'out logic. An' tell meh, Prowler, how many times did that happen in th' past? No, this is a femme's fate we are talkin' about an' this is important. Ah'm good at mah job, th' best an' ya know that. They won't find out about it, Prowler, Ah make sure of that. Trust meh."

Prowl watched his Jazz silently from where he laid on the sofa, studying the other's faceplates. Understanding the silent order, the saboteur even went as far as to remove his visor, to allow the tactician to look into his optics unhindered. He knew that Prowl was aware of the fact that this was a gesture Jazz had done for no one else so far.

After studying the third in command for a bit longer, the tactician finally, hesitantly nodded, allowing him to put the visor back on.

"All right, Jazz", the ambassador-planner gave in. "We'll do as you suggested, but the hacking will be a method of last resort. If Optimus consents to the bonding, which he has no reason not to, we still have one orn left to research and find anything without taking drastic measures. I expect you to use the time and your skills to your full advantage!"

"Yes sir", the special ops agent saluted in a mixture between being serious and playful. "Trust meh, a won't disappoint ya. If there's something fishy goin' on wit' th' femme, we find out about it."

Prowl nodded, finally content and slightly more at ease again. He knew Jazz's skills, knew he was the best of the best. If the saboteur did not find anything, then there was nothing wrong, nothing at all.

* * *

><p>The next day Jazz and Prowl made their entry to the Sacred Hall, as they called the cathedral like place where Autobots placed the energon resources and the slowly growing All Spark - the latter in full sight of all, right in the middle of the hall - as the first mecha to arrive. Jazz wanted to have a look around and find a place where he could best hide and watch the talk between Optimus and the family unit before he planned to introduce himself.<p>

When Optimus, Ironhide, Ratchet as well as Will Lennox and Robert Epps arrived, Jazz had long since vanished out of sight, with no one but the ambassador-planner knowing he was even there.

It did not take much longer for Thundercracker, Skywarp and Bumblebee to arrive with the family unit, the last two chattering amicably with the two bigger mechs, one a bulky, slightly intimidating looking grounder in grey and dark blue colours, the other a sleek Seeker of a soft magenta and yellow colouring. There were three more mechs, two more bulky looking, the colouring of red and green as well as their frame indicating of a sibling bond. The last one was slightly smaller, thought crafty. He seemed to be a flyer, though not the typical seeker model and his colouring war a soft blue and green. He was walking with the femme, holding one of her servos into his own. It was obvious from his actions, the whispered talking and the soft smiles, that he was the intended to be.

Throwing a discreet glance into the direction where he knew Jazz was hiding, Prowl was surprised to see the saboteur in a stance he barely witnessed him with during the war. The third in command stood rigid in his place, visor glowing brightly, and one of his claws was balled into a tight fist. Jazz was obviously upset and he grew so more and more in addition to each of the mechs he studied.

Something was wrong. Seriously wrong because Jazz - controlled, well taught Jazz - NEVER lost control of his emotions, not since the beginning of the war when once or twice even the special ops agent showed his anguish and anger at the especially gruesome actions of the Decepticons. Back then Prowl thought that his friend just reacted so badly because right at the start of the war Jazz had been a Decepticon himself, until he realised that what the Cons did were not what he was fighting for and therefore switched the sides, gaining valuable information from the enemy. It was one of the many reasons that made Jazz climb the ranks from soldier to saboteur so quickly.

Concentrating back onto the current situation Prowl paid his attention back to the unit greeting him and the Prime now. Jazz had not finished his study of the mecha yet, the Autobot second in command knew, because he noticed that his lover still scrutinised each mech very thoroughly. Optimus had already asked the first question and it was not until the leader of all Cybertron addressed the femme directly, asking her to step forward which she hesitantly did, that a sharp intake through vents could be heard by those, who knew how to listen.

And suddenly there was Jazz storming from his hiding-place, a big smile plastered on his faceplates that the tactician knew was absolutely fake, hands outstretched in welcome. His comm-line announced an incoming message and without thinking Prowl opened the comm. to receive the call.

~Keep the femme with Optimus!~ was all Jazz ordered him sharply before he disconnected again, leaving Prowl to stand closer to the femme, unnoticed blocking her from the rest of the family unit. The sensors in his doorwings told him that the femme at least seemed to suspect something because she tensed up, but the rest of the mechs had their optics on the newcomer, who looked at them oh so happily.

"Scapeground, what a surprise t' meet ya here of all places!" Jazz exclaimed to the surprised mech who had introduced himself as 'Failsafe' and seemed to be the head of the unit.

Watching the mechs closely, Prowl could find surprise on all of the mechs faceplates for an astrosecond, especially when the saboteur continued.

"Frontline, Fretscream, Sandstorm an' Ah see ya introduced a new member t' th' unit since Ah've last saw ya, how nice."

"Excuse me, mech", Failsafe coolly interrupted the special ops agent, by now having caught himself. "But Ah think you're confusing us wit' someone else. My designation's Failsafe, not this Scapeground you were talking 'bout. And my comrades are Scruntstorm, Fetchground and Stormcloud. Ah really haven't the slightest idea how you could confuse us with not only one but four mechs at once."

The light at Jazz's visor tightened to a small line, a clear sign that he was angry and did not believe a word being said.

"Frag that! Ah certainly don't believe in confusing four mechs at once. Besides do ya want t' deny that th' lovely femme over there's designated Softglow?"

A sharp intake of air through vents courtesy of the mentioned femme, who now gazed between Optimus Prime and Prowl at the seemingly newly arrived saboteur, her face showing a mixture of shock and fear.

"Yes, her designation's Softglow, as you might well know since you're part of this base's personnel it seems", Failsafe objected, optics tightened threateningly. "An' now Ah want to know your designation and rank, so Ah can fill out an official complaint about you."

"Designation's Jazz", the saboteur introduced himself before he suddenly grinned in the cruelest way the Autobots had ever seen him look at anyone. "An' Ah'm here t' relay a warm message from Sparksong. Ah've been waitin' for this moment. Finally Ah can fulfil mah dream!"

This time the shock and fear four out of the five mechs showed was undoubted on their faceplates. For the mech who claimed to be Failsafe, the look never even left him ever again. Because before anyone even realised what was going on, Jazz acted. A loud crack filled the air and Prowl watched wide opticed as the body of Failsafe sunk to the ground, his neckplates broken. The bodies of Scruntstorm and Fetchground followed both sparkcases pierced by an energon blade.

Stormcloud was the only one who was able to at least react. Fearfully he tried to run, but Jazz was faster. He pushed the bigger built mech to the ground, his pleas of mercy as well as the screams of agony totally ignored by the saboteur who had gone berserk. By now, Optimus, Ironhide, Thundercracker and Ratchet finally came out of their shock and reacted. But even as a unit of four they were not able to prevent the special ops agent killing the fourth mech. It was not until Megatron, called and brought by Skywarp, arrived at the scene, where Jazz was just about to finish the terrified and already badly injured fifth mech, that the mechs finally gained the upper hand over the berserk saboteur.

Held in the strong grip of the Prime and Lord High Protector, Ratchet was able to inject something into the growling mech, who immediately slumped into the waiting arms of his holders, out cold. The saboteur taken care of, the medical officer immediately paid attention to the whimpering and barely online mech on the ground. Silence filled the hall, interrupted only by the quiet groans of the injured mech. And then, the femme, who had been watching the whole murder right from behind Prowl's back, started to scream.

It proved to be the last straw for Prowl. Shocked to the core by Jazz's actions as well as the sensors of his doorwings reacting badly to the noise of the femme's scream, the tactician's world filled with black and he knew no more.

* * *

><p>When Jazz came to - far earlier than he was supposed to, but he always had his little backups against sedatives like Ratchet's - he immediately recognised his resting place not as the medbay but the brig. He lay in a solitary cell, with no one here but him.<p>

On second thought however, when the saboteur allowed his sensors to scan the place again, he realised that he was watched. Sighing he sat up, showing his observer that he was online again.

"Ya know, Prowler, Ah'm rather surprised t' find ya here of all places", the third in command called out to his hidden visitor, a small, fond smile playing around his lipplates.

As predicted, the Autobot second in command stepped out of the shadows and into the dim light of the brigs, right in front of Jazz's cell.

"Hello Jazz", Prowl greeted him calmly, only his slightly flickering doorwings hinting at him being upset.

"Prowler", Jazz sighed and sat down on the berth he just laid on, his tired gaze never leaving the tactician. "Ah'm sorry that this turned out rather different from what Ah'd planned. Ah just didn't expect THIS. By the way, what happened to the femme? If ya allowed t' tell meh."

"Ratchet had to sedate her. As far as I know she is still in the medbay. Ratchet plans to bring her back online soon, to see how she fares and if she might be able to answer some questions."

"Ah", the saboteur acknowledge before silence descended onto the cellblock. Jazz, his optics offline but feeling the studying gaze of the tactician nonetheless, was content to wait for the other to decide what came next. Finally Prowl decided to address him.

"Will you tell me what is going on, Jazz?" he asked quietly, softly. The special ops bot's optics snapped back online and his face moved to study the tactician in return. Coming to a decision, the saboteur groaned and his whole body slumped to the berth.

"Since ya're of course not able t' trust meh, Ah'm offerin' ya a deal", Jazz told the tactician. Prowl interrupted him confused.

"Why should I not trust you, Jazz?"

Wordlessly the saboteur glanced at the second in command before pointedly looking around the brig.

"The decision to put you into the brig was made for everyone's protection, including your own", Prowl explained, after he realised the problem. "It was Optimus Prime's idea and I was against it."

"Ya were?" Jazz asked in disbelief. "After what Ah just did? That's illogical, Prowl!"

That Jazz refused to use the beloved nickname for Prowl when it was only the two of them proved just how serious even Jazz considered the current situation and maybe everything that surrounded the reason for the saboteur ending up there. The tactician was not known for taking anything less than fully seriously, but with this new development, Prowl himself straightened and became extra attentive.

"Jazz, we fought for millennia in a war together. I trusted you, turned my back to you and knew you would look out for me", the Autobot second in command told the special ops agent with a sudden burst of unusual passion. "We have been comrades for the longest time, shared happiness and sorrow. We became best friends and I hope I am not concluding wrong when I dare to say that we have been in a stable and presumably permanent relationship for some time as well. All of this is based on trust. If I do not trust you, how could we have what we have? You do not act without reasons, and however spontaneous and crazy your sudden choice to run amok seemed to be, I refuse to believe that you did this just for some sadistic fun of it. Therefore I see no reason to not trust you and lock you away in the brig."

"Prowler!" Jazz, standing up, murmured softly, his voice indicating that he was touched and taken aback. "Ya humble meh wit' yer opinion about us. An' ya're right, all of it."

For a moment silence descended over the two bots in the brig. The only thing happening was Jazz shuffling closer so he could reach out one of his claws and stroker over the tacticians faceplates with one of the softest touches he could muster.

"What did Ah do t' deserve ya, mech?" he finally murmured, mesmerised. "Ya give meh all of ya, trust meh and accept meh unconditionally. Yet Ah've never been able t' share mah greatest secret of all, not even wit' ya. An' all just because Ah cannot bring mahself t' trust a mech, no matter what. It's been so long... "

He trailed of and Prowl did not say anything. He simply watched his friend and lover, allowed him to touch his body to his spark's content to seek assurance, comfort and strength. Prowl did nothing but to silently support Jazz, accept him as he had so many times before. And finally, Jazz made his decision.

"It's been long enough. If Ah cannot trust ya, who can Ah trust? Ah will tell ya what ya want t' know, Prowl. An' so much more. But mah condition remains."

"And what will that be, Jazz?" Prowl ask softly, finally moving and touching the saboteur's servos with his own, stroking them just as tenderly as the third in command had touched his body.

"Ah want t' be there when Ratch' wakes th' femme. When she's online Ah'll tell ya everythin' ya want t' know. But she must be there, because she has a right t' be involved."

While determined to consider the condition, Prowl looked unsure.

"I cannot guarantee you that Ratchet will allow this."

Jazz nodded in understanding.

"Ah guessed as much", he agreed. "Therefore tell him th' followin': if th' femme shows th' slightest bit of bein' upset an' panics for meh bein' there he can pull meh away any time an' slag meh t' his spark's content. But he has t' give meh a chance t' prove that things aren't as they seem an' ya might be surprised t' find out that th' femme'll need meh t' calm down more than meh bein' absent."

Obviously not sure how Jazz could be right with that conclusion, but willing to trust the third in command, Prowl nodded his agreement.

"I will inform Ratchet."

Satisfied Jazz backed off and sat back on the berth of his brig cell, waiting for the second in command to finish his fight with the moody CMO.

* * *

><p>Jazz and Prowl arrived at the medbay where they were welcomed by a snarling, angry CMO, who immediately pounced on the surprised tactician.<p>

"You did not even restrain him, are you out of your slagging processor?" Ratchet balked before slamming the doors to his sanctuary should, locking them.

"Don't blame Prowl", Jazz immediately defended his partner, nerves uncharacteristically strained and obvious to see. "He knows better than any of ya how quick Ah would be out of th' restrains so why bother?"

"And you!" Ratchet put his attention on the saboteur, ignoring what he said. "What the slag did you think you were doing? Did the small parts of logic circuits you used to have finally crash as well? Did you even consider what your actions, without any explanations I might add, could do to the mecha around you? Did you even think of the humans who could have gotten injured?"

"If Ah explained things first", Jazz responded darkly, his servo gripping onto the tactician's tightly, "the mechs mighta had a chance t' flee, even warn th' rest of their unit, not t' mention endangerin' th' femme."

Ratchet started for a moment at the saboteur in open disbelief, but before he could formulate a response, he was interrupted again.

"Did Prowl tell ya about his suspicion concerning the unit Ah killed?" Jazz wanted to know, unfazed by the CMO's mood.

"Of course he did", the medic responded voice dripping with sarcasm. "The first thing he did, when he woke up from his crash", Jazz glanced at Prowl sharply, the tactician after all having neglected to mention that little detail, "was to plead for your case.

"Yes, he told Optimus, Megatron and me about his uneasiness and the plan you came up with. And while I am not against the idea you originally had, I say that what you did yesterday was the furthest away from that plan that I have ever witnessed. The poor thing", here he stroke softly over the still offlined femmes head they had ended up in front of, "was hysterical about what you forced her to witness. She cried and shouted so much, I had no other choice but to sedate her and even that was an act for itself because she suddenly panicked and fought against three of us tooth and claw. I am still not sure why I should not simply take you and reformat you sorry excuse of a mech into a miniature Beetle without any chance for transformation."

"Because ya want answers!" the saboteur replied rather cheerfully, though his faceplate wore more of a grimace than anything else.

"Damned straight I want them!" the medic replied, but with far less force than before. That Jazz, even though still acting a bit uncharacteristic, seemed to have calmed down and did not look like he wanted to run berserk again so soon, helped a lot.

"An' ya'll get'em but first Ah want t' know what happened t' th' one mech Ah didn't succeed in killin'."

Growling but complying at Prowl's expectant nod, Ratchet pointed at the berth furthest away and shielded from prying optics by a curtain.

"He's out and if you so much as THINK about terminating him inside my med bay I suggest you think again."

The saboteur was barely able to keep the snarl off his faceplates, but he succeeded in pulling himself back under control. He turned to Prowl, however, and threw him a rather hard stare.

"Listen, Prowler, Ah know ya're all confused what's going on but ya told meh ya trust meh. Ah'm askin' ya now t' get over there an' chain that piece of slag t' his berth. Ah won't touch him, Ah promise, but Ah want him secured in case he wakes up undetected. Ya will find out th' reasons when Ah'm answerin' your questions."

The tactician looked back at the saboteur for a long time. Finally he nodded and pulled out the stasis cuffs he always kept on him just out of habit.

"Ratchet, will you allow it?" the second in command asked which gained him a huff as answer.

"As if my word would stop you when you are like this", the CMO growled. "But I am inclined to give Jazz the benefit of the doubt until proven otherwise. And stasis cuffs certainly will not hurt him, so go on if that keeps Jazz calm."

Nodding his thanks, Prowl went over to the hidden mech and fastened the stasis cuffs around the offline mech's servo and connected him to a leg of the berth he was laying on. Done he returned right back to his lover's side and looked at the saboteur questioningly.

"All right ya've t' wake up Softglow first", Jazz said, facing Ratchet. "As Prowl mentioned, Ah promise t' keep mah distance an' ya free t' gimme a new exhaust pipe if she ever so much as looks at mah way funny. However, Ah've a request as well. Ah want ya all t' stay just as far from her as Ah'm because AH predict ya she'll panic more about yer presence than about mine."

Throwing the saboteur a sharp look, Ratchet went over to the berth to insert the substance that would help to get the femme online. Curiosity getting the better of him, the medic then fell back and stood right besides Jazz.

"It will take a moment for her to gain senses", he growled at the two mechs. "So: willing to share some facts with us already?"

"As a matter of facts, yes", Jazz relented. "Ah want t' explain t' ya why she'll be afraid of ya mechs."

"I'm listening", Ratchet nodded, glaring at the smaller built mech.

"Ah'm sure Prowl at least knows about this, but ever heard of the 'Breeders'?"

Prowl's faceplates immediately darkened, but also Ratchet's became a mask of fury.

"Oh I remember some femmes we received as patients after enforcers raided such an organisation", the medic growled dangerously. "They abducted femmes, preferably sparklings who wouldn't remember their past life and creators very well, then used them nearly as bad as those pleasure bots as soon as they were old enough and tried to get them sparked. The sparklings would be sold on the black market, at least the mechs were. The femmes they usually kept as extra breeders."

By the time the CMO ended his tirade, all three mechs were looking at each other darkly, especially when Prowl with barely concealed anger added.

"The femmes we were able to save were usually strongly traumatised. They had to be taken care of by our femme enforcers, because mechs made them... " he trailed of, his optics glowing brightly when realisation clicked in. "Jazz no, you don't mean..."

"Yes, Softglow's a prisoner of Breeders", Jazz ground out. "An' those mechs Ah killed? Breeders, all of them but the one who she was supposed to be bonded to. Everyone else Ah knew personally. They even worked for th' council back then, corrupted as those high and mighty were, fraggers."

Prowl and Ratchet both wanted to say something but at that moment, the femme on the berth gave a small groan, indicating her immediate onlining. While medic and tactician watched with abated air, Jazz leaned forward slightly and as soon as he saw her optics glow in that soft green she possessed, he opened his mouth.

"Hi 'Glow" he addressed the femme quietly, voice soft and tender but also strangely enough a bit higher than usual. The reaction was immediate. She bolted upright and stared at Jazz, her gaze all but ignoring the other two mechs present.

"Sparksong?" she whispered back, fear and hope in her voice.

"Ah'm here, sweetspark", Jazz soothed and slowly came closer to the femme sitting on the bed. "How are ya feelin'? Heard ya had a nasty breakdown, needed t' recharge a bit t' gain yer strength back."

Remembering the events before she went offline, the femme suddenly burst out into tears, her arms reaching out to the saboteur. Before Prowl or Ratchet could react, Jazz was at her side, holding her in his arms, rocking her slightly and making soothing noise.

"It's all right, sweetspark, ya're safe, Ah'm here", he told her. "No one will hurt ya, Ah'll make sure of that."

Watching the scene in front of them Ratchet, the medic in him worried for his patient, tried to take a step forward but Jazz, the femme's back turned to the two mechs, made a sharp movement with his hands, halting him. He pinged Prowl over the comm-line who immediately answered the request.

~She'll be afraid of ya both, good guys or not~, the saboteur stated grimly. ~Better Ah soothe her a bit, then Ah'll introduce ya, right?~

The Autobot second in command nodded and quietly relayed the message to Ratchet, who did not look happy but discreetly nodded to Jazz nonetheless. Satisfied, the special ops agent turned his full attention on the femme again, who was babbling incoherently about him being safe and away, wondering how he reached Earth before her and all that. The saboteur stored that information in the back of his processor because something about what she unconsciously said, made him suspicious.

Finally, after what felt like orns, Softglow calmed down enough, that she was able to look at Jazz again who immediately started on drying her tears.

"There", he soothingly told her, a small smile on his face. "That looks better, don't ya think?"

She nodded, returning the small smile with a barely there one of her own.

"Ya look different", she quietly stated, looking him over once more. "Bit taller 'n bulkier. An' ya havin' claws? Wow, wish Ah had some, too. Am barely able to recognise ya, 'Song."

Curiosity getting the better of him, Ratchet voiced his question before he thought about it.

"If he looks different, how do you know he is the one you call Sparksong?" the medic wanted to know.

Recognising the two other mechs present only now, Softglow gave a squeak like sound and tried to vanish right in Jazz's arms, it seemed. Glaring half heartedly at the CMO, the saboteur vented air through his intakes before smiling down at the shaking femme.

"'S okay, Softglow", he tried to sooth here. "Those two are mah friends. The grouchy one 's our medical officer, designation Ratchet, though ya can call him Hatchet, just like th' oth... OUCH."

Rubbing his head where the growling medic had hit him with one of his famous wrenches, Jazz grinned down at the shocked looking femme.

"See, this is how he takes care of us mechs, though in truth he loves us all I assure ya. However, he has a special spot in his spark for femmes and sparklings, so ya never have t' fear his wrenches."

"Unless you do something really, really stupid", Ratchet added, though in a more gentle manner than anyone else in the room was used to. "However, you really look like you are not as stupid as Jazz or even Prowl here, therefore I doubt you have to fear some of my special treatments at all. They are for the processorless after all."

"Hey!" Jazz and Prowl protested that statement at the same time, the tactician indignant, the saboteur mostly amused.

"Working too long, ignoring your recharge circles, forgetting to fuel", the CMO started to count, gazing pointedly at Prowl before moving turning his optics on Jazz, "getting blown up by your own bomb, helping the twins with their stupid stunts and pranks, do I need to continue?"

"Thank you, no?" the third in command told him humorously before looking back at Softglow who by now was smiling slightly at the antics of the three mechs. "Well and now that you know our lovely medic", Ratchet waved another wrench threateningly at Jazz, growling, "Ah'll introduce ya t' mah best friend an' second in command, though now also known as our ambassador-planner, designation Prowl."

"Prowl?" Softglow asked hesitantly. "Ya look Praxian built. Were ya by any chance an enforcer back before th' war?"

Surprised the tactician nodded.

"How do you know?"

"Ya name was feared among the mechs we know", the femme whispered. "Ya arrested others, similar to those who held us. We kept hopin', before the war that is, that ya might be able to find us too. But then th' war broke out an' no one seemed to care about femmes like us anymore."

She hung her head, optics sad and downcast once again, her body shivering. Jazz on the other hand looked torn between rage and shock.

"Durin' war?" he exclaimed, finally settling on shock for the moment. "But how's that been possible anyway? Imagin' mah surprise when Ah saw ya right in th' middle of those fraggers once again."

Ratchet however interrupted the talk, recognising how upset the femme seemed to be about the topic.

"Maybe we should start with something less unpleasant for now", the medic suggested soothingly. "Would you like some energon for starters? You must be hungry after all the excitement."

Looking unsure back to Jazz who nodded at her encouragingly, Softglow finally nodded her head.

"Ah would like some energon, if ya have some to spare, thank ya", she whispered and shyly accepted the energon Prowl already obtained for her the moment Ratchet mentioned it. Sipping on it hesitantly, Ratchet sought for a fitting change of topic. But it was Prowl who came up with a question he would still like answered.

"Softglow, you mentioned a short while ago that Jazz looks different and you could barely recognise him. But how DID you recognise him, if not for his looks?"

"Yeah", Jazz added curiously. "Ah've been wonderin' about that one, as well. "Ah was already expecting Ah had t' convince ya about mah identity, changed as Ah'm."

"It's about what ya said back then in th' hall", Softglow answered quietly. "'Ah've been waitin' for this moment. Finally Ah can fulfil mah dream!' Ya were th' only one who threatened the mechs again and again with exactly those words. Ya used it like a mantra, kept ya goin', kept ya strong. Th' moment ya said those words, Ah knew it was ya, Sparksong."

She looked curiously from Jazz to Prowl, then Ratchet.

"Say, why DO ya look like this an' why do those two address ya as...", Softglow faltered suddenly, realisation showing on her faceplates and she put delicate servos right in front of her mouthplates in shock.

"They don't know!" the femme exclaimed, surprised and relieved at the same time. "Does no one know? Are ya safe?"

"Softglow", Jazz sighed and pulled the femme into another hug. "Ya're right, they don't know. But they're about t' find out. That's part of th' reason Ah'm here. An' by know Ah'm sure Prowl already wonders, what wit' what ya said before, th' parts ya mentioned that involved meh."

"NO!" Softglow suddenly burst out, throwing her arms around the saboteur, hiding her face in his breastplates and started to sob again. "Ya can't do that! Ya're safe, ya're safe! But if ya reveal that..."

She trailed off and started to sob again. The third in command stroke the distressed femme softly over her head, making soothing noises once again, calming her down.

"It has to be done, 'Glow", he told her dejectedly. "Ah've been livin' wit' this burden far too long. Ah've got t' get rid of th' fear, t' finally be free. They're able t' grant meh just that, maybe ya too, if ya give it time an' a chance."

Whimpering the femme just shook her head in denial as she parted from his embrace and grabbed his servos in a tight grip instead.

"Sparksong, NO!"

But Jazz just looked at her, gaze sad, even with the visor hiding his optics and loosened her grip on his servos, only to pull hers into his.

"It hurts t' say this, sweetie, but Ah've been free for a long time, fightin' in a war, meetin' friends'n enemies. Ah love Prowl! Wit' what happened t' us, we lost all trust in mechs but Ah've reached th' point where Ah need t' let go of th' mistrust. He's th' one dream come true Ah've always wished for an' this dream of mine's a dream worth keeping."

Not losing his light grip on the femme's servos with one claw, he used his other servo to reach for Prowl's, who immediately accepted the silent request. Holding tight to the tactician, Jazz gazed seriously at the second in command.

"Prowl, ya've been nothin' but faithful t' meh an' Ah respect and admire that. Ah want t' trust ya wit' all mah spark, as Ah've not trusted ya before. Please don't betray that trust because it would turn out t' be more fatal than ya might currently guess."

He stopped and his gaze wandered to the CMO.

"Ratchet, our lives've been in yer servos more than once an' even wit' that gruff attitude of yers ya've been nothin' but faithful an' loyal t' us bots. Ya saved mah life more'n once an' ya kept secrets, even some that ya shoulda reported t' Optimus. Ya're also fiercely protective about those ya like an' yer patients even more. That's why Ah decided t' include ya into mah trust. But th' same goes for ya: don't betray that trust Ah put upon ya, because if anyone of ya two breaks it, Ah might be forced t' realise that this life of freedom still has nothin' t' offer for meh an' there's nothin' worth livin' for. Do ya both understand?"

Prowl and Ratchet nodded, serious. They were obviously confused and shocked about Jazz's forewarning, but the honestly serious demeanour the saboteur executed told the two bots that this was very important and no joking matter for the third in command.

Jazz nodded, satisfied and under the pained whimper of the femme his chestplates moved aside to open sight to the sparkchamber hidden deep inside his chest.

"This is th' reason why Ah was never able t' overcome th' refusal t' show ya mah spark", the saboteur whispered with sudden fear obvious in his voice. And right before the optics of one second in command and one commanding medical officer, the doors to his sparkcase moved aside to show those present the strong glow of a dark-blue spark.

Dark-blue, the colour that, as both mechs present very well knew, distinguished the spark of a femme from the light-blue of a mech. Oh how for a moment Prowl wished that he could allow the shock to overwhelm his logic centre and let him crash.

Jazz, his beloved Jazz, was a femme!

tbc...


	5. Week Four  Pain of the past

Title: A hidden femme's secret  
>Subtitle: Pain of the past<br>Part: 2/3  
>Author: Usagi-Atemu-Tom<br>Verse: TF-Bayverse  
>Anniversary Challenges: Week four prompt – # Daring rescue<p>

Rating: PG 17  
>Genre: romance, dark, angst<br>Warnings: death (no main character), discussions of rape, abuse, slavery and abortion  
>Pairings: JazzProwl, mentions of Ironhide/Ratchet  
>Feedback: Please, yes, I love feedback! =^^=<p>

Summary: The truth Jazz has been hiding comes to light. Behind the role of a saboteur, best friend and lover lays the tragic history of a femme - abducted, abused, but with the strong will to survive it all and more.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine I don't make money with it and write only for fun and to get better in writing English. ^_^

Helpful Pointers:  
>Vorn - 83 years<br>Orn - 13 days  
>Joor - 8 hours<br>Breem - 6 minutes  
>Astrosecond - 56ths of a second  
>Klick - 1 millisecond<p>

Please note that I've only ever watched the two movies from 2007 and 2009. While I've 'met' a lot of Transformers from the comics and cartoons, that more often than not show up in fanfics I, of course, have not seen them in action and therefore might not be able to interpret their characters right. I am using mostly what I've learned through the movie (and maybe fanfics) and while catching some ideas here and there I am mainly using my very own ideas for things like energon, space bridges and so on.

And not to forget, much thanks to Taralynden for betareading.

* * *

><p>"I think I need to sit down!" Prowl whispered shocked, his gaze never leaving the dark blue spark glowing from inside his lover's chestplates. The exclamation, it seemed pulled Ratchet out of his stupor though, because he was at Prowl's side immediately, snarling.<p>

"Oh no, you are NOT going to crash, slagger, not now, not ever, you hear me!"

Prowl just nodded and allowed himself to sit down right next to the two mecha... no, femmes... on the berth.

"Just... shocked", the tactician mumbled, his optics still glued to the glowing spark. "Jazz, you are..."

"Yeah", the saboteur sadly sighed, her sparkchamber finally closing and her gaze seeking that of the shocked tactician. "Ah know that whole thing comes kinda as a shocking revelation an' t' be honest even if Ah've said that Ah needed t' overcome that damn fear an' all Ah just feel."

She strongly vented air through her vents, her whole demeanour a mixture of frustration and barely restrained fear.

"Slaggit, Ah'm stronger than that!" she cursed, body shuddering, which caused Softglow to hug her fellow femme just tighter. "Ah'm sorry Ah've kept ya in th' dark about mah identity, Prowler. An' Ah understand if ya no longer feel like ya want t' be t'gether wit' meh just... just don't leave meh as mah friend, please. Ah've valued our friendship too much, t' lose it as well."

This words, it seemed were the key to get even Prowl out of his stupor, though the tactician's strained processor needed some astroseconds to process what had been said. Then, however, he shot up from his stool and was by Jazz's side before anyone realised what happened.

"Not wanting to be together with you anymore?" the second in command echoed, disbelief in his voice. "Jazz, I LOVE you! And femme or not, you are still the same bot, are you not?"

Jazz nodded, her body still shaking, not even noticing how Softglow pulled herself away from her friend, both intimated by the bigger mech as well as awed about what she hoped and suspected was happening.

"Then I don't care!" Prowl exclaimed, voice taking a stubborn note. "I love you, Jazz, Sparksong, whatever your designation is. I. Love. YOU!"

Sobbing, Jazz threw herself into the tactician's waiting arms, only then realising that Softglow had allowed the two of them space. But all that was fogotten when the saboteur felt those strong, reassuring arms of her beloved closing around her body, keeping her safe and warm.

"Ah love ya, too!" the third in command sobbed. "Please never betray mah trust in ya, never use meh, never fail meh! Ah couldn't bare th' sparkbreak, not wit' what Ah've been through before an' durin' th' war."

"Never!" Prowl vowed just as unusual fiercely as the saboteur was unusual showing his worst emotions in front of others.

* * *

><p>Around a joor later, Prowl, Ratchet, Jazz and Softglow found themselves still in the medbay, but they were joined now by Optimus Prime as well as Will Lennox, who had the command of the human soldiers that lived with the Autobots in Cybertron City.<p>

It had taken this long for the first four participants to calm down after Jazz's secret had been revealed. Then of course there came the discussion about who else to involve, if anyone at all. In the end, with a lot of coaxing of Jazz by Prowl, the revealed femme allowed the CMO to call Optimus and Will. The first one because Jazz had served under the Prime long enough that he tried to reassure himself he could trust their commander just as much as he did Prowl and Ratchet.

The human, because Will Lennox had always worked well together with the Autobots and already kept some more delicate secrets, and because in the end he was just that: a human, unable to profit from the knowledge of a femme in their midst.

The Prime had taken the revelation of Jazz's true identity with great shock and surprise. Will, however, felt a bit confused about the importance of that revealance.

"I know Chromia and Arcee", the man told the mecha present. "And I've seen more than one femme who visited from Cybertron since the beginning of peace. As far as I've always understood, you guys are not like us organics. The distinction into mech and femme has nothing to do with what we humans understand, has it? So why is it such a big deal if Jazz turns out to be a femme? No offence Jazz."

"None taken", the saboteur replied easily enough, smiling at the human. She had calmed down greatly during the last joor and by now was nearly back to her old usual self. Though, just to assure her, Prowl had never moved away from her side. Instead he preferred to keep his lover right where she was lounging on his lap, arms securely around her.

"What you said, Will, is only partly true", Ratchet now joined into their discussion. "Here on Earth your females are not only often enough expected to be the mother of your children, but to take care of your houses and their bonded as well. They are proven to be weaker in build and strength than the male of the species and care a lot about looks.

"A femme however, might more often than not turn out a bit more delicate in build, because as smaller frame is how they feel comfortable the most, but they are far from being weaker than any of us mechs."

"Femmes also don't care about looks", Jazz added humorously. "Not more than a mech who wants t' woe a potential bondin' partner at least. Look at Chromia, for example. More often than not she's more dirty than even Ironhide or Hound and that's tellin' a lot."

"And when it comes to the raising of our sparklings", Optimus continued, "the creator unit usually takes care of that together. There is no Cybertronian that is expected to take more care of sparkling and bonded than the other. It's all about equality."

Will nodded in understanding.

"That's what I grasped so far", he told the mecha. "Also, with your race it doesn't matter if two mechs, two femmes or a mech and a femme are together."

"Yeah, we make less of a deal of it than you humans seem to do more often than not", Ratchet grumbled. "Besides, femmes are rare, that's one of the many reasons why a lot of mechs end up with another mech as their bonded."

"Like you and Ironhide?" the human could not help but cheekily ask. He knew, just as anyone else, that the medic had never made a big deal about his relationship with the weapons specialist and therefore thought that almost no-one knew about them. Having to realise now that this was not the case, Ratchet glared at the amused human and mecha, but nodded in confirmation.

"Yes, yes, like Ironhide and me", he grumbled. "However, to get back to the topic at hand, there is one thing that our femmes have in common with your human females. Their sparks are granted the same ability as the All Spark. They can create a sparkling."

Hearing this, Will's mouth opened up into a perfectly round oh.

"You mean they can bear life?" the Lieutenant General pressed on.

"Our sparks are of a darker colour than that of a mech", Jazz explained. "That's because our sparks harbour more energy which we need if we're t' bear a sparklin'."

"How does that work?" the human wanted to know, curious. Strangely enough Jazz and the other femme, Softglow shuddered slightly at the innocently asked question. The other occupants of course noticed and Prowl threw a worried look over the two femmes.

"I don't need to know", Will told them softly, already having been warned that both femmes were victims of past abuse.

"No, it's all right", Jazz sighed and after squeezing the tactician's servos in reassurance, she looked over to Ratchet. "But ya're th' medic, doc bot. Therefore ya tell him!"

Shrugging, though looking the slightest bit worried, Ratchet complied.

"I told you once about sparkmerge, Will. Usually we do with for pleasure, just like you humans indulge in sexual activities. However, if a femme and a mech merge their sparks and the mech pushes enough energy into the femmes spark, it can cause the separation of that energy into a third spark. That one will nestle next to the femmes spark and feed on it for a while. Usually no longer than two orns. It is just enough time to build a sparkling frame for the little one. Then the femme will separate the little spark from her own spark and settle it into the new frame, thus the sparkling is online."

"Okay, so not so different from the birth of our babies in some aspect, I guess", Lennox mused.

"No, it is not", Prowl agreed, speaking for the first time since Optimus and the human had been called to the med bay. "Though the time period is a lot shorter with our sparklings and the separation is painless, unlike what I have read about the birth of a human baby."

"I think now every woman would envy you", the Lieutenant General joked at that, which earned him slight chuckles from the present mecha, even the still overly fearful Softglow. However, soon the mood became serious once again.

"Okay, now I've learned a bit more about femmes", Will concluded. "And I see they have a special ability. However, back then, you guys had the All Spark and it was the main source of your progeny - still is, is it not? So what is the deal with a femmes value then, if I may ask?"

Shuddering, Jazz pressed herself tighter against Prowl and when she saw that Softglow was near tears again, she invited the distressed femme into open arms, Prowl wordlessly accepting his lover's need to reassure her friend. Venting air heavily through her intakes, Jazz decided it was her time to explain.

"Ya've t' understand one thing, Will", she started her tale. "Before th' war, Cybertron had a certain ruling system. Th' Prime of course was th' highest rankin' of all. His main task was t' handle bondin's an' th' receivin' of sparklin's from th' All Spark for family units that requested a creation. Of course, th' Prime had a lot more to handle - t' be exact, th' whole planet - an' as advanced as we were, rulin' a whole planet's just too much for a single Cybertronian.

"Therefore Optimus' predecessor created some kind of co-rulers. Th' Lord High Protector who was t' take care of th' safety of th' planet as well as that of th' Prime. An' th' council, a bunch of politicians that were supposed t' regulate important things like th' rationin' of energon, work an' of course th' incomin' requests from family units for a sparklin'. Of course everything they ever decided had t' be signed by th' Prime."

Jazz broke off and sighed loudly, causing Optimus to take over the telling.

"Unfortunately I did not know back then, that my predecessor had been corrupt and the council he chose was just as corrupted as him. A lot of the low ranking mecha suffered under their regime, until an uprising ended the life of the Prime and his bonded, who was Lord High Protector back then. The council survived though and they choose me and Megatron as successors in large part because we were inexperienced and from a part of the planet that did not witness the suffering. We were told the death of Prime and Lord High Protector was the work of evil. They called them Decepticons. Ironic, really that Megatron later choose that as the designation of his faction. But I digress.

"When I started my rule as Prime, I soon noticed a lot of things I did not like and I changed many of the rules created, hoping that I could end the suffering I witnessed. The council's power was reduced, and with Megatron becoming as intimidating as he is now things soon seemed to calm down and peace settled over the planet. However, I assumed that the problems and rules had all been a miscalculation of my predecessor, not planned, as I only found out when we were already in the middle of the war."

Hanging his head in shame, Optimus closed his optics to battle away the memories and pain about what he found out when it was already far too late.

"What Optimus could not know", Ratchet spoke softly as he took over, "while the council realised they had underestimated the intelligence and kindness of the new Prime as well as the cunning and danger of the Lord High Protector, they were not willing to give up control. They reduced their activities to those they could handle undetected by the Prime. They took control over who was allowed to receive sparklings. A lot of the poor had no chance at all. And even some of the rich, for example the Tower mecha, were not permitted their own sparkling."

"And that", Jazz took over, voice angry but determined, "was because th' council knew that they could make more credits wit' desperate bonded who really wanted their own sparklin'. Of course they couldn't collect the credits themselves, they woulda been found out sooner or later. Instead they came up wit' cunnin' reasons as t' why th' bonded couldn't have a sparklin'. Then they ensured that a group called Breeders got in contact wit' th' couples and offered them a deal. Th' rich would pay credits an' rare energon, th' poor be forced into service until they paid their debts which of course would never happen.

"If they agreed, th' Breeders gave them a sparklin', sparklings they more or less BRED", Jazz spat the last words hate filled. "They kept their own femmes, which they usually abducted as sparklings and as soon as they were in their adult frame they would force them to sparkshare, either wit' each other or wit' a mech they brought for pleasure services. Another activity th' council itself indulged in", the saboteur added bitterly. "We were worth even less than a pleasure bot; those at least were legal, choosing their vocation out of free will, not forced like us."

"Sounds a great deal like our human traffickers ", Will Lennox concluded shocked and angry. "I'm sorry Jazz."

"Don't be", the third in command sighed, grimacing. "For meh it's all in th' past. Though Ah guess Ah can't deny that there's still part of meh that doesn't handle th' memories well."

"Jazz, I am sorry to ask, but how did you end up with the Breeders?" Optimus Prime asked gravely, carefully. The saboteur shrugged, his way to conceal the true effect that question had on him.

"Ah got there the same way as most femmes have: abducted as a sparkling'", she told those present before grinning darkly. "However, th' Breeders miscalculated wit' meh, because they thought Ah was th' sparklin' of poor energon dealers. In fact, mah creators were undercover enforcers an' mah creation an' birth had been unexpected. Therefore they had t' keep meh wit' them. For mah protection Ah was installed wit' a special processor. Ah also turned out more intelligent than th' average sparklin'. Ah remembered an' when Ah became older Scapeground, th' leader of th' group of Breeders wasn't able t' turn meh into one o' his obedient bitches. Quite th' opposite, Ah made sure that every single femme prisoner there knew of her true heritage, that they were abducted an' held against their will or that of their creators. Turned out quite th' rebellious little bunch of femmes."

"Sparksong taught us all t' survive", Softglow suddenly added quietly, her glowing, thankful optics never leaving those of her fellow femme. "Of course we still were forced into sparksharing but wit' th' knowledge Sparksong gained as a natural hacker, she soon made sure, that getting sparked became a rare occurrence wit' us. We made their life as difficult as we could. And later", here she suddenly stopped, venting air repeatedly through her vents, her body shuddering and her voice becoming distressed. "Then later she taught us how..."

"STOP!" Jazz sharply told the femme and immediately pulled her into a tight hug before continuing softly. "Don't do this t' ya, sweetspark. Let meh, Ah'm stronger."

Nodding and trying to suppress her sobs, Softglow stayed silent and allowed the saboteur to take over.

"While th' mechs were sold t' live wit' at least lovin' family units", she told the listening audience quietly, "it soon was clear that every femme, as rare as we are, would be kept t' be raised as another breedin' machine. Ah started t' experiment then. First... Ah learned how t' extinguish a spark before it was fully developed. Then Ah taught th' other femmes until we all seemed t' miscarry wit' every spark we ever developed."

"You killed the undeveloped sparklings?" Ratchet interrupted, voice faint with shock. "Primus, Jazz... JAZZ!"

The medic looked at the saboteur and her fellow femme, face stricken with grief yet also understanding for their situation. While Softglow burst out into tears, the third in command gazed sightlessly at the next wall, surprised to find her body shaking violently and being pressed tightly against Prowl who had buried his face right beside her neck and was mumbling soft words of comfort and assurance. It was only then, that the femme realised she was crying. Swallowing another sob, she refused to look into the ashen face of the human or the horror stricken faceplates of the remaining mechs and continued her tale, though haltingly.

"Ah've tried more... Ah... Ah couldn't bear th' thought of all th' lives lost... Th' little one's... they had done nothin' wrong, an' despite th' way they were conceived, we... still felt love for th' undeveloped sparklings. So Ah went on, tried t' find a way t' scan th' sparks to know for sure if they were a mech or a femme. After all those long, agonisin' orns, Ah succeeded in tunin' mah sensors t' measure th' intensity of th' developin' spark an' Ah found a way t' teach th' others t' do so as well. From then on, we left th' mech developed fully, but if one of us sensed a femme..."

Jazz trailed off and could not help the sob that escaped her throat.

"Ah never wanted any of them t' be terminated", the femme started to cry helplessly against Prowl's chestplates, who pressed her against him, making soothing noises while trying to hold back his own tears. Tears he had not shed since the day Praxus was extinguished by the Decepticons. But the tactician could not help it. His spark reached out to the mourning saboteur who had gone through far more than he would have ever expected.

"Ah wanted all of them t' live", the third in command continued bitterly. "But what choice did Ah have? Should Ah allow a poor, defenceless femme t' be another prisoner in that hellhole? T' live th' life we had t' endure? Ah could never bear th' thought, so Ah decided it was better they went on t' th' Well of Allsparks, hopin' they will forgive meh, when Ah mahself arrive there."

"You did the right thing, Jazz", Prowl reassured his lover, stroking over her head tenderly. "I have seen femmes held by such Breeder groups and I know they went through the pit and back. Oh Primus, Jazz, YOU went through the pit and back."

"Which gets us to the question", Ratchet interrupted the former enforcer, though voice far softer than his usual barks. "How did you get out of that pithole?"

Silence descended over the medical bay. Jazz and even Softglow took the time they needed to pull themselves together. The saboteur even beckoned the other femme closer again, so she could seek comfort in the Autobot's arms. When both femmes had finally dried their tears, it was surprisingly Softglow who looked up first.

"Sparksong could have gotten out any time", she told the audience with a thankful smile in Jazz's direction. "She was skilled, she learned and wit' help from the rest of us she always trained t' get better. After less than three orns, 'Song was able to sneak up an' at least injure anyone fatally wit' bare servos.

"We told her to go, but she refused t' do so without us. Instead she trained us again, t' be at least silent, an' t' keep away from th' security cameras. She sneaked out repeatedly t' scout out th' base an' th' surroundings. Seriously, she didn't rest until an infallible plan was ready that would get us all out. We didn't learn about it until she pulled it off, instead she even told us a totally different time of action, drilled us through th' course until we could recite it in our recharge circles. Then, all of th' sudden Sparksong simply opened th' door an' told as t' run as she taught us. It was incredible."

"Ah put them t'gether in groups of three", Jazz took up the tale. "They were supposed t' stick t'gether until they were in th' next city, then separate an' each run in a different direction. Ah told them t' get as far away from that place an' th' city as possible, then find some disguise an' watch an' learn about th' life of the mecha around until they felt confident enough t' join in."

She now looked at Softglow directly, her face showing confusion and resignation.

"Seems not all made it out, Ah'm thinkin'? Ah do wonder, how did they get ya, since th' plan was supposed t' be foolproof."

The other femme looked to the ground, her faceplate desperate and ashamed.

"Oh Sparksong, everyone got caught again", she finally confessed not looking at anyone. "We made th' mistake of not listening t' yer order, t' separate an' cut contact t' anyone. It was Darkfin who suggested t'gether we would be quicker, stronger an' slyer than th' Keepers. She even offered t' try an' find ya, so she left us in our hiding place for about half a joor. But when she returned, she was captured by Scapeground. We had no chance at all, they had us surrounded."

Softglow broke of suddenly, her optics glowing brightly and panic made itself known on her faceplates. Desperately the femme sought optic contact with everyone.

"Primus, th' other femmes!" she shouted, her voice desperate. "Ah beg ya, we need t' save them! Now that ya've taken out Scapeground we haven't much time left. He left instructions, just in case, what was t' happen wit' th' other femmes if he was not t' return. It was their way t' keep us in check, telling us that something would happen t' th' others, t' YA. Ah'm just so grateful ya got out of there again."

"Again?" the saboteur interrupted her, confused. "What ya mean, again? Ah've been out since that time Ah got ya all out. They never caught meh again. Ah was lucky enough t' find a medic who was skilled in reconstructin' frames an' who didn't ask questions if offered th' right amount of payment. Wit' mah hacking skills, Ah stole enough credits t' pay him for a mech frame, calibrated voice included. Ah joined th' Decepticons right after Ah found out that th' council was receivin' part of th' profit th' Breeders made.

"Ah wanted justice, but sadly enough Ah soon realised that Megatron seemed t' be no better than th' council. When Ah found out about th' plans of destroyin' Praxus, Ah was outta there an' went over t' th' Autobots."

Here Jazz paused and turned her head to Prowl.

"Ah'm sorry Ah was not able t' reach th' bots in time", she told the tactician softly. "If Ah'd found out about th' plans earlier, maybe we mighta gotten there in time, instead of too late."

"It's not your fault", Prowl disagreed, voice soft, though optics full of old and new pain for events of the past. "You did what you thought was right, and it's a good thing you reached us at all. If you had not tried to warn us, the few mecha that did survive the attack would not have lived, exhausted, injured and low on reserves as they were. Bluestreak certainly would not have made it."

"Thanks, Prowler", Jazz replied equally soft and for a short moment she activated here energy field to touch Prowl's in a gesture of a kiss. Both bots shuddered from the contact, but soon put their full attention back to the other mecha and the human in the room. This time, it was Lennox who had a question.

"If Jazz has been free all this time, how come you thought otherwise?" he asked Softglow slow and carefully. "I am assuming that you don't simply believe the word of scum like them?"

The femme shook her head, then opened one of her frameplates to reach into one of the many compartments she kept hidden there. After a while she pulled out a green visor, not unlike the visor that Jazz wore now.

"Darkfin told me that they got ya as well", Softglow told her fellow femme directly, offering the visor to her. "After our capture she gave me yer visor, telling me ya were caught just when she found ya an' they threatened her t' kill ya if she didn't lead them t' th' rest of us. When we asked for ya later, Scapeground told us since ya were th' obvious leader of our group he keeps ya separated from now on an' it was in our best interest t' succumb or ya would be th' one t' pay th' price.

"Ah don't understand, Sparksong", the femme added, confused. "How could they have yer visor an' claim t' have captured ya, if that hasn't been true?"

Jazz exchanged a dark look with the other mechs in the room, the answer to that question obvious to all the war-scarred Autobots and even the human.

"You have been betrayed", Prowl quietly told the femme who was still sitting in Jazz's embrace and therefore in his as well. "During my time as an enforcer I had my share of cases with Breeders that paid one of the lower femmes to help them trap their victims. A lot of them were captured and put into the brig for a long, long time."

"Ah gave mah visor t' Darkfin right after we broke out of that pithole", Jazz added darkly. "Back then Ah honestly thought it was coincidence that we met. She musta known that she would never get meh t' agree t' keep contact wit' any of ya, so she asked for mah visor for keepsake, t' never forget meh.

"Ah never suspected anything", the saboteur added miserably before adding a string of curses in her upcoming anger.

"I am surprised this organisation survived the war", Optimus voiced his own thoughts for the first time once Jazz had calmed down a bit. "After all, as the war started, Cybertron became a place of chaos and destruction."

"As far as Ah know", Softglow told the Prime, "Scapeground stayed near th' bigger Decepticon strongholds. He made his profits by selling sparklings t' th' lower ranked Decepticons."

She stopped and burst out into tears.

"Ah really don't want t' know how many of my little ones ended up as soldiers, extinguished on th' battlefield", the now distressed femme cried out and immediately Jazz enveloped her into another tight hug, making soothing noises and did everything in her power to calm her friend down.

When Softglow at least was able to stop her sobs, she continued, but tears still ran down her faceplates.

"When th' war got more out of control we were shipped away t' a different planet where Scapeground kept business running, waiting all those thousands of vorns until finally word of peace reached our hiding place. We returned t' th' nearly destroyed Cybertron an' right now they're making business by offering some of us femmes as bondmates as well as selling our sparklings. We femmes are an expensive commodity right now, at first because we no longer had th' All Spark, an' now it's because it's too far away for some of th' mechs t' reach. And Ah was th' first t' be bonded."

"We are still in the process of constructing a space bridge", Ratchet confirmed thoughtfully. "Of course this might take several more stellar-cycles to be done and certainly some of those impatient slaggers cannot wait at least one more vorn."

Jazz however, was no longer listening to the medic venting out his anger. She was staring thoughtfully at the door of the med bay, ideas and suggestions racing inside her processor.

"We need t' rescue th' femmes", the saboteur finally voiced his thoughts. "Prime, permission t' come up wit' a plan t' blow up the whole group?"

"Do you really want to handle this yourself, Jazz", Optimus asked uncertainly. "You are deeply involved in this, emotionally."

The special ops agent nodded her head in admittance but her look never lost its determined edge.

"Ah'm aware but Ah've got control over mahself", he promised their leader. "An' Ah'll include Prowler in th' plannin' as well as mah special ops team. Bumblebee and Mirage would be great, if they're free right now."

Mulling the saboteur's suggestion over, Optimus rubbed his chinplates thoughtfully. Prowl on the other hand, was already one step ahead. He faced the Softglow, optics hard and determined.

"Softglow, how long did Scapeground plan to stay here? And do you know how he planned to contact the Breeders before his return to Cybertron?"

The femme ran over her memory banks of the past stellar-cycle.

"No contact before they return t' Cybertron", she finally confirmed. "Since th' Lord High Protector an' th' Prime are working together again, Scapeground thought it too risky in case someone overheard th' communication an' would have been able t' decode th' message. But he set a time period of two stellar-cycles til his return."

"An' do ya know where th' hidin' place is?" Jazz asked next. The femme, however, shook her head, optics sad.

"Ah'm sorry but we were kept rather tightly this time an' durin' transports we were always kept in stasis. Oh Sparksong, how can we find the hiding place before the time is up?" the distressed femme asked her friend desperate.

But the saboteur had not given up yet.

"What about customers?" she wanted to know.

"Oh they are usually greeted somewhere nearby."

Jazz started to grin rather nastily.

"Great, then it's no problem since we still have that nice little customer of yers in captivity", the third in command concluded satisfied. "Hey Ratch' thank ya for keepin' meh from killin' him, seems that mech bein' alive'll come in handy now. Permission t' interrogate that piece of slag, Prime sir?"

"Will you lose your temper again like you did with those four dead mechs, Jazz?" Optimus asked his friend gravely. The saboteur gazed back at the Prime and even went as far as to take off her visor to allow her friend and leader to look straight at her optics.

"Ah'll not regret killing Scapeground an' his little slaggers, they had it comin'. However, th' mechs Ah killed were all those Ah knew, who hurt meh an' others. Since Ah don't know that wannabe bonded an' mah anger's cooled down, Ah promise ya Ah won't kill him, just try mah worst t' find out what he knows about th' meetin' place of the Breeders."

Optimus gazed sharply into the special ops agent's optics for one last time before he nodded.

"Get Mirage, give him an update of the current situation and you two can start interrogating the prisoner for the required information", he ordered, then turned around to the CMO. "Ratchet, please bring your patient out of stasis and prepare him for the questioning."

While Ratchet grumbled a little bit out of habit, not because he had any sympathy left for a mech who paid money to bond to a femme without her consent, the medic turned to go to the berth that hosted his only remaining patient right now. Jazz meanwhile saluted the Prime and made about to push Softglow from her lap while getting herself out of Prowl's arms, but then she remembered something important.

"How much am Ah supposed t' tell Mirage, sir?"

"Only what you are comfortable with, Jazz", Optimus answered her gently. "I am not expecting you to give up your secret to any more mecha outside this room, Jazz."

The saboteur vented the air through her intakes in obvious relief.

"Thank ya, Optimus", she sighed before she looked straight at Softglow.

"Hey Sweetspark, will ya be able t' stay in this room wit' these mechs til Ah go an' get mah subordinate for questioning?" she asked the still slightly frightened femme softly. "After we are done ya can stay wit' meh an' Prowler for a while until Ah've th' chance t' introduce ya t' Chromia and Arcee, our current free femmes here on Tron City."

"Chromia! Are you crazy, mech?" Will shouted shocked, before sheepishly adding. "Uhm, I meant 'femme' of course."

Chuckling the saboteur grinned at the only human present.

"Ah'll have ya know that Chromia's a no-nonsense femme wit' a lot of bark an' bite. She'll be good for 'Glow's self esteem an' teach her some more about self defence than Ah was able t' back then."

"It's all right, Sparksong", Softglow voiced her own opinion, faceplates looking brave. "Ya go an' get th' help ya need t' save th' others. Ah'll survive a few breems surrounded by these mechs, Ah'm sure."

"Right, then let's get us started on operation 'Daring rescue'!" Jazz exclaimed, demeanour right back to the familiar way the bots knew their saboteur to be. And before anyone could blink an optic, she was out of the doors.

tbc...


	6. Week One Surprising Origin

Well, this story was supposed to be my second entry for week one of the Anniversary Challenges, however I was unable to finish in time. Now the additional week has started, where we are allowed to post everything we did not finish in time of all four weeks. Please enjoy my second prompt for week one!

Title: **Surprising Origin**  
>Part: 11  
>Author: Usagi-Atemu-Tom<br>Anniversary Challenges: Week one prompt – #Surprising Origin  
>Rating: PG<br>Genre: romance, general  
>Warnings: slash<br>Pairings: Jazz/Prowl  
>Feedback: Please, yes, I love feedback! =^^=<p>

Summary: Surviving the attack of Megatron was the easy part. Now Jazz has to face the truth about a mech that he thought he had known and loved in and out.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine I don't make money with it and write only for fun and to get better in writing English. ^_^

Helpful Pointers:  
>Vorn - 83 years<br>Stellar-cycle – 7.5 months  
>Orn - 13 days<br>Joor - 8 hours  
>Breem - 6 minutes<br>Astrosecond - 5/6ths of a second  
>Klick - 1 millisecond<p>

Please note that I've only ever watched the two movies from 2007 and 2009. While I've 'met' a lot of Transformers from the comics and cartoons, that more often than not show up in fanfics I, of course, have not seen them in action and therefore might not be able to interpret their characters right. I am using mostly what I've learned through the movie (and maybe fanfics) and while catching some ideas here and there I am mainly using my very own ideas for things like energon, space bridges and so on.

As a lot of you might already know, the ability of sorcelling has been created by Taralynden and is used with her permission here.

And not to forget, much thanks to Taralynden for betareading.

* * *

><p>It had been six months since the famous final battle over the All Spark in Mission City on Earth and Jazz was still restricted to the medical bay by Ratchet's orders. After the saboteur's miraculous survival from the fight with Megatron himself he had been in stasis for over six orns until the medical officer had been able to tinker his broken, barely living body back to full functionality. However, even if the Cybertronians were not organic, when they were wounded as badly as Jazz had been their metallic bodies still needed time to recover.<p>

Therefore after the current second in command came online again, his programs took the next few orns to rewrite themselves. He had to learn nearly everything over again: how to speak, how to walk, how to read, how to activate his weapons or access the human Internet. The only good thing was that Jazz certainly remembered every little detail of his life. That was simply part of who he was and whereas laid in his spark, instead of being a simple program. And as Ratchet explained to a dumbstruck Sam, who had been surprised about Jazz not being able to talk the first day, only to come back the next to find him chattering away like a bot the irritated Ironhide called Bluestreak, being forced to rewrite his programs was a task Jazz had to do only once for each program. The moment his language program was finished, the saboteur was able to talk like he had never stopped.

Though at first of course the only language Jazz was able to speak had been Cybertronian standard. He had to rewrite the program for accessing the human Internet first before he was able to address their new human friends personally without a need for a translator. What frustrated the second in command the most, and was the main reason for his lengthy stay in the medical bay, was the fact that as a saboteur he had a LOT of programs to take care of. Some of them were easily repaired since he could just download the codes and main structure from Ratchet or one of his other comrades. However, there were a lot of programs left that even Ratchet had not known about. Now though, Jazz was forced to admit to them, because some were important and he was no longer able to function without them.

To say Ratchet had thrown a fit would have been the understatement of several millennia. The saboteur could still feel the pain of the three dents, courtesy to Ratchet's infamous wrenches, before he had finally been able to take cover. In the end Jazz was forced to rewrite most programs himself, from memory alone of what they should have done. Ratchet was only able to provide help for some of the more basic of these special programs and though basic in this context meant advanced far beyond the understanding of any of the others currently on Earth.

Today, however, was Jazz's last day in the medbay. He was supposed to await the results of Ratchet's final checkup, the medic wanted to be sure that every program installed was running smoothly again, then he would be the pit out of here and hopefully stay away from the grumpy medic and his tender care for a long, long time. While the Autobot second in command was waiting for the medical officer to return, he was surprised when the doors to the medical facility opened and Bumblebee came in.

That the young scout was part of Jazz's personal special ops team was unknown to most Autobots, but no-one had questioned the fact that he had been a regular visitor to keep Jazz from boredom, just like every bot else. But it was already well known thorough the whole base that today was Jazz's release, meaning he was healed and no longer in need for friendly visitor's call. Knowing Bumblebee as Jazz did, this meant that the scout's visit had a more serious meaning.

"Bee, mah mech", Jazz greeted the young special ops agent with an easy smile.

No reason to get to business just because one assumed it had to be that way.

"What brings ya t' th'... how do humans say it? Th' 'lion's den'? Never thought ya would be one of those willin' t' visit th' Hatchet without bein' threatened."

The yellow coloured Camaro transformer shuddered for an astrosecond at the thought of Ratchet's usual maintainance days before grinning back at Jazz easily enough.

#And you, have you enjoyed your stay in Ratchet's everyday care?# he retorted through commlink, since his voice still did not work properly, knowing full well that Jazz had tried at least ten times to escape the medical bay. All without success of course.

"Awww, Bee ya wound mah spark", Jazz snickered, holding a clawed servo over his hidden sparkcase. Both special ops agents shared another quick laugh about their little antics, before they became serious right at the same time.

"So, what's so important it can't wait until after Ah'm released by th' Hatchet, Bumblebee?"

#I've needed to talk to you for a long time, but I realised it would be inappropriate to do so until you had all your programs and skills as our head of special ops back again#, the young scout started to explain. #It's about something strange that happened, and a message I was supposed to give you. A message that I needed to be sure that you can detect any virus in, before I give it to you.#

"A message?" Jazz asked surprised. "From whom? There aren't a lot of mecha down here on Earth that would cause ya t' act this distrustin'. Far as I know, anyway."

#No, there are not#, Bumblebee admitted, before letting out air through his vents like a human taking a deep breath. #The messenger is Barricade. I was fighting him over Sam and the glasses and I won, as you might have heard. However, I always had a feeling that it was too easy. I've fought Barricade before and so far I've never won. Also, when he laid there, twitching inside the mass of power supply lines, he stopped me by a short command and threw me this little datapad. He told me to give this to you, and only you, and that your decision on reading it might decide the outcome of the war.#

Bumblebee now took the datapad he had been talking about out of his subspace and showed it to his commander.

#I should not have trusted him, should not have accepted the datapad I know. But my instincts told me to take it and I decided as long as I did not open it, things would be fine. Still, it might be helpful if you take a look at it. Maybe you'll see something I do not.#

"Hmmm", Jazz took the datapad with a thoughtful thrill and studied the innocent-looking device in his claws. "Ah'm not sure what's goin' on an' certainly Ah've no idea why Barricade wanted meh of all bots t' receive his messages. As far as Ah remember we haven't clashed more 'n once during a battle an' now that Ah think about it, th' only thing Ah remember odd about that incident 's th' fact that he seemed reluctant t' fight meh."

He started to examine the datapad. First only the frame, then the inside as well. He was careful and thorough enough that he was still working on it when Ratchet returned and declared him officially released - he hid the datapad from the medical officer of course - to all through an exchange of energon with the other Autobots and the first human members of what was supposed to become a liaison between the two races called NEST, and his eventual return to his own quarters. Bumblebee stayed with him until Jazz finally was as sure as he could be that the datapad was safe and he finally dared to open the message.

It was only one small paragraph, but for Jazz, the intent was clear.

_Prowling secrets! Meet me one joor after your activation of this message. ALONE_

_Barricade_

Coordinates were added to the little message, the guide to a secret meeting point. After Bumblebee made sure that Jazz was not infected by a virus the saboteur dismissed his faithful agent, instructing him to return and read the message hidden in the usual place if he had no chance to speak to his head of special ops after one and a quarter joor.

Fortuitously the meeting point was not too far away from the place where NEST was establishing their temporary base. It was still near Tranquility so that the Autobots were able to see Sam, Mikaela and Bumblebee, who was staying with the human boy for the time being.

To make sure that it was not some kind of trap, Jazz arrived already half a joor before their meeting time to inspect that place. However, it seemed Barrciade had the same idea after being alerted by the opened message, because when the saboteur arrived, the Decepticon was already carefully scouting the area. Jazz, who had been quiet about his arrival, gazed at the Saleen transformer doing his rounds. It was odd but the longer he watched the Decepticon the more familiar he seemed to be. Something was strange about the meticulous way Barricade scanned the area. It reminded Jazz of someone but he simply could not put his talon on who.

Deciding it was useless to hide for another half joor, and with the way Barricade was acting he was sure that things were as safe as they could be with a Decepticon in his path. Leaving the shadows of his hidingplace, Jazz strolled over.

"Yo, 'Cade", he greeted the enemy scout who did something surprising. The Decepticon, after hearing his voice, jumped a mile in shock before whirling around to face the suddenly arrived Autobot.

"Jazz", Barricade stated surprised before his tense body mostly relaxed and a shot of air left his vents in a sigh of relief. "I expected you to turn up earlier to scout the area. But given the time and since I was unable to calculate how far away our meeting place is from your current base, I did not expect your arrival for another quarter joor. Given your unpredictable ways I should have known better than to calculate as I did."

Jazz cocked his head curiously to the side at these words. Barricade made it sound like he knew the saboteur far better than he was supposed to and it made him suspicious and curious at the same time.

"And why do you have to call me by that ridiculous name?" Barricade added as an afterthought. "What is it with you and nicknames anyway? My designation is Barricade, please leave it as that."

The special ops agent blinked his optics in surprise at those words.

"Strange, but for a moment ya sounded just like Prowler", the saboteur mused amused before he turned serious again. "An' speakin' of him, let's get down t' business, shall we? Ah've got yer message an' Ah recognised yer indication for Prowl. Just don't expect me t' tell ya any secrets that aren't confirmed by ya first. If there's any secret anyway. Ah admit ya've meh curious, though. What kind of secret would a Decepticon know that Ah myself don't?"

The Decepticon let out a rough chuckle before he sat down on a boulder in the middle of the scrapyard that was their meeting point.

"Your acting skills are supreme, Jazz. Any other Decepticon might have fallen for it. It's just I know you better than you realise."

Now the special ops agent looked at the other with a challenging look on his face.

"Ya do, don't ya?" Jazz dared him. "Humour meh. What could ya possibly know that others don't?"

"I think I should simply show you, and then you will understand", Barricade replied eerily calm. "I know for a fact that I can trust you. Besides, I would have liked for you to know about this from the beginning. It's just, Optimus Prime wanted to be sure that nothing leaks out, by no accident possible. And it's not that he did not trust you, Jazz, he just wanted to eliminate as much unpredictability as possible."

By now Jazz, who had sat down right after Barricade stood up again, was staring, his face incredulous. The light of his visor was narrowed, certainly just like his optics itself were right now and he watched the Decepticon's every single move with new distrust.

"Optimus Prime? What exactly are ya tryin' t' tell meh here?" the saboteur asked with fake calm, undertone slightly threatening. Jazz certainly did not like being played and right now he suspected just that was happening. Barricade however seemed unfazed even though it was clear he noted the warning undertone.

"What I am about to show you is confidential, Jazz. The only being to know about this is Optimus Prime himself, no one else. And it took a great deal of risk and work to keep this hidden from ops, believe me. You are to tell no one and you are here to help me come up with a plan that will get me away from the Decepticons without blowing my cover. The war hopefully will be over now, but I don't wish to take risks and reveal a precious cover that might come in handy again at a later time.

"I am counting on your skills as special ops here. This is also why I decided to try and contact you, not Optimus Prime. He might have thought that my cover is no longer necessary and become incautious. While he is a great leader and has his strengths, I prefer the knowledge and skill of someone who knows about sabotage. An ops agent - the BEST ops agent."

Jazz had not needed to hear it all to put two and two together. The moment Barricade finished with his explanation, the saboteur was gaping at the Decepticon, visor glowing bright in disbelief.

"Ya're an agent!" he voiced his conclusion. "Ya're undercover! Ya infiltrated the Decepticons. But ya've t' prove it t' meh. Otherwise even Megatron could've claimed t' be simply undercover."

The Saleen transformer inclined his head in acknowledgment.

"Of course I plan to prove my status", he confirmed calmly. "Since I am sure you did your own check of the meeting place, may I ask if we are secure and unobserved?"

"As far 's Ah was able t' tell, yes, we should be safe here", Jazz confirmed.

"Good, this is what I came up with. Now watch. And Jazz?"

"What?"

"I'm sorry I did not tell you sooner!"

And with those words, Barricade's body started to shift and morph in a very painful-looking way. Jazz watched the procedure, shocked and fascinated at the same time. He heard about that technique. As head of special ops he was able to recognise it immediately, even though he had never before met anyone who was able to use it. What Barricade performed was called sorcelling, a form of transformation that allowed a Cybertronian to take on the form of a fellow mech or femme, as long as their body mass matched. It was a great technique for spies to use. Very few possessed the ability and even lesser were able to master it.

The change happened slowly, after all it was a more forceful form of transformation. Jazz watched every single step of it closely. Who knew if he would ever be able to witness something like this again. He was so engrossed in watching the small parts of armour move, that he even neglected to pay attention to the true identity of the mech who was acting as Barricade.

But when the last seam locked itself into place and the saboteur finally looked up into the spy's face, he was in for the greatest shock of his existence. For a moment his voice refused to work as he stared at the mech, who now stood in front of him.

"Prowler?" he managed to choke out at least, not believing his optics.

"Hello, Jazz", the now Praxian looking mech answered softly. The slight flutter of his doorwings the only indication that he was nervous and even that was something only mecha who truly knew him would be able to recognise.

The head of special ops slowly walked up to the Autobot that had once been head of tactical operations as well as the original second in command under Optimus Prime. Dazed, Jazz reached out his claws as if to touch the other's faceplates. In the last moment though, he stopped the movement and instead took a cautious step backwards.

Prowl it seemed, had anticipated that move and lowered his optics.

"I understand that you are angry with me now, Jazz", the Praxian sighed and a surprising amount of emotion, of sadness, could be heard in his voice. He had not moved at all since the revelation of his identity. He neither hindered nor encouraged any of the saboteur's actions, only waited for what the other bot would do.

Jazz, shock his head after hearing the softly spoken declaration.

"Ah should be angry at ya, shouldn't Ah?" the head of special ops whispered absent mindedly before he violently shook his head once again. "But Ah can't. Ah don't feel any anger, only shock an' regret. Ah'm special ops, Prowler. Ah know all about secret missions an' infiltratin'. Add to that yer surprisin' ability t' sorcel, it's no wonder that ya had t' keep this a secret, even from special ops. Sorcellin's a damn helpful technique but feared just as much as it's admired."

He looked at Prowl, the daze now gone and instead his natural amusement over the situation came to the front, making him chuckle.

"Ya know, Prowler, for somebot who's not special ops, ya did exceptionally well, ya aware of that? Ya played yer role rather well, even had my own agent fooled."

Jazz's expression changed from amused to admiring and he finally invaded Prowl's personal space again and nudged him to sit down onto the bolder. When the Praxian allowed the saboteur to position him as he liked, the Solstice transformer took a seat besides his comrade and looked him over again. He even went as far as stroking one of the enticing doorwings Prowl always used to hold so proudly.

"So, this' th' true form of th' feared Barricade. Ah have t' say Ah'm impressed."

For a moment, both Autobots started at each other. One curious, the other strangely grim. Then Prowl offlined his optics and allowed his vents to push air out with a loud noise.

"There's more, and you honestly deserve to hear the whole truth", the former Autobot tactician declared more to himself before he onlined his optics again and focused them on Jazz with an intense stare. "This is not my true form, Jazz."

Again, the saboteur had to admit that he was shocked and knew he certainly looked like it, too.

"It's not?" he finally choked out. "But if that's not yer true form then..."

Realisation hit the head of special ops and his mouthplates formed the round form of an 'o'.

"So, why 're ya pretendin' then?"

Prowl let out another sigh like noise through his vents and looked at Jazz with surprisingly sad optics.

"How many Autobots do you know of that have been sparked and raised in Kaon, Jazz?"

Immediately understanding hit the saboteur, though he still took the time to mull the question over.

"Well", he eventually admitted hesitantly, "the twins've been in Kaon for a long time..."

"But they were not sparked there", Prowl interrupted. "And while their manners certainly leave much to be desired, they do not have typical Kaonite looks and still have a past and a future outside of that city they can look back to."

"Agreed", Jazz admitted with a sigh. "So, what about yerself?"

Prowl smiled slightly at the saboteur, the whole thing looking a bit bitter.

"I was sparked and raised in Kaon", the Autobot tactician told the other calmly. "But ever, since the very beginning I have been an outsider, someone odd, not fitting. First there were the crashes of my logic centre. For mecha in Kaon a glitch like that was seen as weakness. You can imagine how my creators reacted about finding out."

Jazz winced a bit and without thinking about it, he took Prowl's hand into his own servos. Even though no emotions have swept through Prowl's storytelling, the saboteur knew the other very well. At least he thought he did and while now the fellow Auotbot was revealing a rather shocking truth about his origin, Jazz doubted that it changed anything about what he knew of Prowl's feelings. Therefore, even if he did not show it, the head of special ops was sure that the other was hurting like the pit inside his spark by thinking of his past.

He did not interrupt, however. Jazz had the feeling Prowl needed to tell this as much as he himself needed to hear it.

"So, what happened t' ya?" the saboteur gently urged the other on.

"My creators tried everything they could to compensate for that glitch I had. They tried to harden me, to raise me as a fighter. To their dismay that was another thing where I differed from the rest of the mecha in Kaon. I despised the violence of my home. I hated the gladiatorial games and the usual thirst for energon. In the end I ran away as soon as I was sure that my odds for survival were over 40 percent."

Jazz thrilled softly at this, knowing that usually Prowl preferred to not accept a plan that had a success rate under 80 percent. The tactician showed him a small smile, having a good guess what he was thinking.

"Those were different circumstances and it was only about my own life", Prowl explained. "It seemed worth the risk. I ended up on the streets first. In fact I lived there for a long, long time, surviving because I used my head instead of body strength like so many other younglings did.

"Finally, when I was a young mech, I stumbled upon a situation with a Praxian enforcer. He had gotten himself into trouble, very serious trouble, and I could not stand back and watch. I saved his life and he, realising that I did not seem to fit with the rest of Kaon's inhabitants, he took me away from there to Praxus."

"So that's how ya ended up there, even though ya're Kaonite."

"By that time I was old enough to live on my own legally. Still that Praxian presented me to his bondmate and their little mechlet and they took me in. His mate was a well respected medic and it was him that looked me over and found out about my ability to sorcel. And since enforcers are taught all there is to know about sorcelling in theory, Quickstrike took me aside and tried to teach me."

"Successfully, if yer current show 's anythin' t' go by", Jazz could not help but point out proudly. To his surprise, Prowl however, shook his head.

"No, I did not succeed, even after a long period of training", the tactician admitted. "Even though I had a strong motivation. Praxian mecha quickly became suspicious of me, the strange, dangerous-looking mech from Kaon. As a medic Softspark was able to change my appearance in small ways, but my Kaonite heritage was unmistakable. Quickstrike thought that my wish to fit into Praxus might be motivation enough. Sadly, it seemed not to be so. I think now that I was doubting myself and my abilities too much. Ultimately, the only people who really accepted my presence in Praxus were my step-creators and their little sparkling."

"But in th' end their acceptance were what counted th' most, was it not?" Jazz asked.

"Indeed it was", Prowl confirmed, the light of his optics now dimmed in what the saboteur recognised as a sign of sadness. "Their adoption of me and their love, born out of kindness and their thankfulness for saving one member of their family unit, was what kept me with them. I learned to see Praxus through the optics of an enforcer who wanted to protect it. And I saw its beauty through the optics of a soft sparked medic who showed me everything he loved about his town. It also helped that their innocent sparkling, who I often watched during my stay, showed me his very own perspective of the world he lived in. It was he, who allowed me to fall in love with Praxus Crystal Parks, more than anyone else."

"An' Ah'm happy for ya t' hear that", the head of special ops told the tactician with a smile before becoming sad. "Oh Prowler, wit' hearing yer story Ah'm so sorry about what happened t' Praxus!"

For an astrosecond, Prowl was surprised about the saboteur's actions, but soon enough he clung to the smaller mech's body, accepting the offered comfort as he always had with Jazz. No matter how much the tactician had always been able to close off his emotions in front of surrounding mecha, from nearly their first meeting Jazz alone had been the only mech who pushed through his defences and forced him to let out his feelings.

The tactician still ended up quite subtle about showing his emotions, but the head of special ops had always been a quick learner and soon he was able to read Prowl's every subtle sign like an open book. It was what made them become such great friends so quickly, one of the many quirks that had drawn the former Autobot second in command like a moth to the flame. And he never regretted one klick of the time he had with Jazz. The only thing he did regret was not telling the saboteur the truth of his origin.

And Prowl hoped with all his spark, that coming clean now, under the current circumstances, was not too late and that he would still be welcome in Jazz's arms by the time his tale was told. So far, and especially with the saboteur's current actions, his battle computer calculated him a chance of 80 percent that at least their friendship would be restored.

Deciding to bask in the moment as much as he could, and taking all of the comfort offered - he really needed it for what he was about to tell next - Prowl stayed in the Solstice's arms while he continued with his story.

"The sad truth is, the destruction of Praxus was part of the trigger I needed to finally master sorcelling", the Autobot tactician whispered. "When the Decepticons attacked I was away, carrying out a delivery request from Softspark. When the first bombing took place I immediately tried to return to the very mechs who had become my family unit. But unfortunately I was buried under a collapsing building. I was lucky enough to survive. The stones fell in a way that left me caged into a small hole. I suspect it saved my life, but it took me a lot of time to get out of my prison.

"By the time I was able to free myself, the attack was over and Praxus left in ruins. My logic centre told me it was over just after the first look around, but I still needed to see for myself, so I went back to the place I called home. I found Softspark first. He must have died instantly after getting hit."

Jazz tightened his embrace.

"Their sparkling was nowhere in sight and Quickstrike seemed to be missing as well. At first I feared the worst, them vaporised into nothing by the weapon of the Decepticon. Then I remembered the hidden cellar, Quickstrike had told me about once. He had been rather proud of it, too. Neither of my step-creators had been blind to the events in Cybertron. They had recognised the warnings of a war long before and decided to build that cellar, if worst came to worst, to protect their sparkling.

"After I was able to dig out the entrance of the cellar, I realised that the force of the attack had been so strong, even the well-built hiding place had collapsed."

Here Prowl stopped with a choked sob and buried himself deeper into the offered embrace. Remembering that day had always hurt. But he never expected it to still hurt this much, now that he told Jazz the story out loud. Had he buried his emotions about that time so deep, that it now came out rather more violently than it was supposed to? The tactician was not sure, but after starting to tell his friend everything he could no longer stop. Therefore, voice shaking slightly now with that unusual amount of emotion, he continued where he left off.

"I found Quickstrike first, his body mostly buried under the debris. He was still alive, but barely and even with my little medical knowledge I could see it was hopeless to try and save him. He was awake though and he noticed me. He told me in a silent, yet strong voice, that I was supposed to try and scan his form, then sorcel.

"But I was so shocked and overwhelmed with grief, I could barely grasp what he wanted from me. And even when I did, I refused to do it, telling him, that it was no use and how sorcelling would neither be able to save him, nor bring his bondmate back to life. Again he ordered me to sorcel. He told me that I could not emerge as one of the few survivors of Praxus looking like a Kaonite. While he knew that I was more of a Praxian at spark than most of the other mecha he had known, he was not blind to the way of how the world worked.

"And then he told me that I needed to become a Praxian, because I was the only one left he could ever entrust with the care of his sparkling. It was only then that I noticed the offline mechlet lying in the arms of his creator. Quickstrike protected his offspring with his own body, saving the little one's life. The sparkling only had minor injuries and the stress caused him to fall into stasis, but nothing worse.

"It was Quickstrike's forceful order, coupled with the fact that I was to become the sparkling's protector while I was supposed to be protected as well that let me forget all about my insecurities. I successfully scanned my step-creator's form and changed into it. The last thing Quickstrike did was smile at me proudly and handle me the offline sparkling for protection. I will never forget that moment, never as long as I exist.

"I left the place I came to call home and after running through the ruins of Praxus I finally reached an outpost of the Autobots they had erected right after their arrival to help their search for survivors.

"By the end of the night I found out that the sparkling and I were the only survivors of Praxus. A strong and proud city, destroyed just like that. I became an Autobot right at the end of that night vowing that I would do all I could that something like this would never happen again."

For a moment silence descended over the scrapyard. Both Autobots were busy reining in their emotions and getting over the content of the story Prowl had just told. Jazz, even while deep in thought, continued to stroke over the tactician's body soothingly, hoping that the small gesture could at least bring a little comfort to the pain his friend must certainly feel.

It was only until the saboteur was done recalling everything told to him, that he realised something.

"Just a klick, Prowler. Ah remember th' night of th' attack on Praxus. Ah was one of th' helpers trying t' find any survivors. An' while Ah didn't met ya personally Ah certainly found out later who that sparkling had been."

He stopped his summary, the full meaning of his own conclusion hitting him like a brig on the head.

"Bluestreak", the head of special ops whispered shocked, "Primus, Prowler yah were part of th' family unit that belonged t' Bluestreak."

The tactician nodded against the saboteur's shoulderplates.

"Quickstrike and Softspark were Bluestreak's creators", Prowl confirmed softly. "He is aware of that fact and he knows that I lived with his family, practically became his older brother in all but energon. However, he remembers almost nothing about that time. His CPU was not well developed back then, and most of the memories files were not saved for access. Therefore he does not know about my origins. As far as he is concerned he thinks I am a Praxian orphan who got adopted by his creator."

"An' ya wish that it stays that way for little Blue", Jazz concluded. Prowl nodded.

"Please!"

"Anythin' for ya, Prowler", Jazz whispered before he tucked the tactician back against his armour and continued his stroking over the Praxian doorwings. They stayed like that for quite a while, until the head of special ops was sure his friend regained control over his emotions again.

"So", the saboteur started conversationally, his arms keeping a loose embrace around the tactician, "since ya just revealed t' meh that ya not really Praxian an' wit' what Ah know about sorcellin' how come that ya body's sensors always reacted t' mah touch th' way it's supposed t' be even though Ah've heard that sensors usually stay at the place of the original body?"

The question shocked Prowl so much, he ended up speechless for an astrosecond, before he groaned and half heartedly glared at the saboteur.

"Jazz, while I appreciate your attempt to lighten the mood, do you really have to ask THIS of all questions?"

"But ya can't deny it's a good question", the Solstice transformer chuckled, patting the other's head. "An' wit' ya back in mah arms after all this time, th' issue just popped up in mah processor, Ah couldn't help it."

Releasing air through his vents in a sign of exasperation, Prowl pondered over the best answer for the question. Even if it was the last thing he had expected Jazz to wonder about, he had sworn to himself to be truthful tonight with the mech in whose arms he currently sat.

"All right, you remember the form Barricade has, don't you?" the tactician finally asked and Jazz nodded. "Well you might notice then, that while more dangerous and obviously a Kaonite design, the build of my true from and that of a Praxian are not too different. I simply had luck. My original creators designed my protoform with doorwings even, do not ask me why because my only guess would be it had something to do with their annoyance over the Seekers from Vos."

At that point the head of special ops was able to put the answer together himself.

"Ah so yer build differs not too much from Praxian, meanin' that most of yer sensors sit at th' same place."

"Exactly", Prowl confirmed.

"An' what about ya endin' up as undercover agent for us?" Jazz wanted to know next. "As far as Ah remember, ya're always most effective wit' tactical plannin' an' yer job as second in command. While Ah'd noticed yer mind an' talents fulfillin' th' conditions for special ops, ya were always more beneficial as our head tactician. What changed?"

Prowl sighed again with a burst of air through is vents. This question he had expected from Jazz.

"That would have to do with the fact how Optimus Prime found out about my ability to sorcel."

"Ah", Jazz concluded and nodded his head in a silent gesture for his friend to continue.

"As you should know, the ability to sorcell still requires the user to return to their true form every few vorns latest. In my case, I required a return to my true form around every second vorn. For a long time I was able to plan it out well enough that I could vanish for a joor or two to perform the required change and return to my Praxian form and rest a bit."

"Oh Ah remember how ya were sometimes more exhausted than usual, every second vorn or so", the Solstice could not help but point out, realisation hitting him. "So that wasn't about ya overworkin' yerself again but ya usin' th' trick of sorcellin' twice in such a short period."

"I have to admit, your insistence when you noticed my exhaustion was rather helpful on those days", Prowl told the saboteur with a small smile and Jazz could not help but chuckle. "But do you remember that five vorn long besiegement we had to endure by the Decepticons not long before we shot the Allspark into space?"

"How could Ah not?" Jazz retorted dryly. "Ah was made third in command durin' that time an' Ah had t' put up wit' Sunstreaker bein' in a bad mood for thirty orns straight."

Prowl could not help but smirk when he remembered the one time he had not had to put up with the vain twin's antics for once. It had been a small comfort, given their overall situation, but it was still a memory he kept with fondness, even though he had felt sorry for the one mech who had already been his lover back then.

"Yes, Sunstreaker happened to be in a bad mood a lot during that time", the tactician admitted. "Though I have to say there had been worse cases. Anyway, things got more heated than I could ever have anticipated and I was unable to leave my post for more than 3 breems most of the time. Even with the generous amount of time I calculated in a case like that before and after my usual time of taking on my true form, did not help me out at that point. In the end I worked myself into exhaustion and the hold I had on my cover form burst when I was in a private emergency meeting with the Prime. It had been a blessing in disguise that it was only Optimus with me, when my body broke down and started to sorcel back without my consent."

"When ya hold that form for too long ya get exhausted an' in th' end yer body itself forces ya t' return t' ya true form if ya do not do it yerself, right?" Jazz summarised what he knew about the rare technique, and Prowl nodded.

"I was lucky Prime did not think of me as a spy, when it happened. Instead he allowed me to rest in private, then of course he wormed out the whole story and after I told him everything I was willing to tell him, he reacted with understanding and swore he would not tell anyone. However some time later he came to me about a problem we had with the unpredictably of the Decepticons and the fact that he feared for the safety of the Allspark. After a long discussion and the working out of a plan as safe as possible, it was decided that the Autobot second in command was to go missing and soon a Decepticon by the name of Barricade to be born."

By now Prowl had released himself from the embrace of his friend and put a bit of distance between them. With slightly dimmed optics, he looked at Jazz, faceplates showing as much of an apology as the usually reserved tactician was able to show.

"I am sorry I could not tell you of that plan, Jazz", he said softly. "I asked Prime for permission to at least induct the head of special ops, since this was a plan typical for your area of expertise, but if you remember we lost some mecha just before because a Decepticon spy overheard a report, a classified report."

"Yeah", Jazz sighed with a burst of air from his his vents, "Ah remember. "An' as a told ya before, Prowler, Ah'm special ops, therefore Ah understand the value of silence, even against yer best friend or lover. Been there, done that."

It was as much a declaration of acceptance as it was a confession of the secrets he still had to keep from Prowl. The tactician simply nodded returning the acceptance and thankfulness.

"Then there is one thing that **I** do not understand, Jazz", the former Autobot second in command came to his final point. "While I am thankful for your understanding and belief in me, how is it that you trust me so easily, even though I have done nothing so far that would prove I am not simply a Decepticon trying to get under your armour for information purposes."

At these words, Jazz grinned.

"While Ah have mah reasons t' believe that you've told th' truth so far, Prowler, Ah'm far from over checkin' yer identity", the head of special ops stated. "Ah just wanted t' hear ya story first an' gauge yer reaction about mah actions. Ah've found nothin' so far t' doubt yer identity. But ya're right. So how do ya plan t' prove yer identity once and for all?"

Prowl hesitated for a moment, his whole body tensing in a flash of insecurity. Then he straightened, posture calm and determined as every Autobot who knew him, was used to.

"Do you remember the present I gave you, just before I needed to leave?" the tactician asked the saboteur softly. Jazz thought for a moment before recognition hit him.

"Th' small crystal from Praxus' crystal gardens. Ya told meh the crystal was able to glow in synchrony with a sparkbeat. Have t' tell ya, though, that Ah tried it an' it was not really in synchronic wit' mah spark at all."

The Praxian looking Auotobot could not help the small, fond smile that his lipplates formed. He watched with hold spark and bright optics as the saboteur hold the beautiful looking crystal out of his subspace. So the head of special ops had kept the crystal with him in memory, even after his disappearance and then the saboteur's own journey to Earth.

"Of course the glow would not synchronise with your spark, Jazz", Prowl told him. "What I have to admit I neglected to mention is that such a crystal is special. I received it from Softspark just before the night of the attack. He told me that it is tradition for a carrier to give their creation such a crystal when they are old enough to look out for a mech or femme to bond with.

"He told me that when I found the one I was certain I would like to spend the rest of my existence with I was free to activate the crystal and synchronise its glow with the sparkbeat of my own spark. When I get up the courage to gift the mech or femme of my choice with the crystal, it is supposed to stand for them holding their spark in their servos, a declaration of my feelings, if you will."

For a moment Prowl had to break off his explanation and he looked uncomfortably everywhere but at Jazz while he added hastily.

"So if you open my sparkcase, you will realise that my sparkbeat is in harmony with the glow of the crystal you hold in your servos. It's the best and most honest proof I can offer to you right here and now."

Jazz was silent for a long time. He stared at the crystal he was still holding, while Prowl fidgeted in front of him in an uncharacteristic show of nervousness. Suddenly, the saboteur looked up and fixed the other with a rather intense gaze.

"Are ya tellin' meh, Prowler, that ya just proposed for us t' bond?" the saboteur whispered, awe obvious in his voice. Prowl nodded with a nervous jerk of his head.

"Ah would have told you the true meaning back then, but I knew I would be on my way for that special mission and with all the unpleasant things happening each orn, I did not wish to leave you with the promise of something that might never come to be, no matter your willingness to accept or not."

"But ya proposin' t' meh now?" Jazz asked, barely taking notice of the reasonings of something that happened in the past. They had been close for a long time and he still trusted Prowl's judgement, even if sometimes the results were rather unpleasant.

"I... guess... that is...", Prowl was tensing up, a sure sign that his logic centre was about to pull himself into one of those loops that would end in a rather unpleasant processor crash. The head of special ops did not allow for that to take place. In a flurry of motions he threw himself into the strong arms of the tactician laughing rather giddily.

"Yes, yes, an' yes", the saboteur chanted. "Honestly Ah don't care if ya meant t' propose or not, th' meanin' of th' crystal is clear enough for meh an' Ah accept whenever ya're ready t' offer yerself in return."

He nuzzled the front of the Praxian looking Autobot rather affectionately. Prowl tried to protest, wanting to point out that Jazz had still not confirmed his identity, but the Solstice forced him into silence.

"Hush, Prowler", he whispered and pushed his audio near the place where he knew the spark of the tactician beat. "Ya remember Ah've rather sensitive hearing, yes?"

And with those words he listened intently while his visor was focused on the glowing crystal in his servo. After a tense moment of silence, the saboteur nodded his head and pulled back, smiling up into the taller built Autobot's faceplates.

"They are identical", he confirmed to the dumbstruck tactician before he put the precious crystal back into his subspace, satisfied.

"But Jazz", Prowl could not help but protest. "What if I have been able to infiltrate the Autobot base already back then and am in truth a Decepticon?"

The saboteur growled in mock indignation at the one mech he just declared to wish to spend the rest of his existence with and put his servos on his hips in acted annoyance.

"Jeez, Prowler, give a mech a bit of credit, will ya? Ah'm a spy as well. Ah pride mahself t' know at least a bit of mah work of expertise. So far no traitor has come past meh an' one of them once feigned t' be mah best friend. Did a damn good job as well, an' it was only for mah instinct that Ah pressed for more an' more proof until th' Con finally got nervous an' made a mistake. Ah know yah find that one illogical, but mah instinct helped meh out more than once an' wit' ya it had stayed absolutely quiet. Besides all the small Prowler-things ya did since ya revealed yerself as well as th' fact that there were some moments where ya acted certainly not like yer usual self, were already proof enough for meh. Th' crystal's simply th' icin' on top as th' human sayin' goes an' Ah can live wit' that. Ya're mah Prowler, now stop doubting yerself an' come here!"

He pulled the tactician back down on his place to sit before pushing himself boldly into Prowl's lap, enjoying the closeness and contact their new sitting arrangement offered.

"Well, now that we have taken care of that", Jazz cheerfully continued as if nothing spectacular happened at all, "how about ya tell me what exactly ya had in mind for Barricade's disappearance and Prowl's return after he went missing."

Sighing but smiling slightly at the same time, the tactician gently punched the saboteur in the sides earning himself an indignant squeak.

"That is why I wanted YOU here, Jazz not Prime", Prowl stated matter off fact. "You are head of special ops, so let's come up with a plan."

"Okay, let's start", the head of special ops agreed. "Th' sooner we're done here, th' sooner Ah've ya all t' mahself."

"JAZZ!"

But the exasperated cry of protest died when the laughter of the saboteur filled out the empty scrapyard.

* * *

><p>One and a half orns later reports reached Autobots and Decepticons alike that the Decepticon Barricade had gone missing after being hunted down by Jazz and Bumblebee during a routine guard duty.<p>

Another orn later Optimus Prime received a message from his original second in command, who had officially gone missing back on Cybertron. The head tactician requested the assistance of Jazz, who was ordered on a mission back to Cybertron.

One and a quarter stellar-cycles later Prowl and Jazz sent a coded report back to the Autobots on Earth, informing them about a fight with some stray Decepticons and a warning that something bad was coming. They promised to gather as many reinforcements as they could possibly find from the scattered Autobots and return to Earth.

Nearly four stellar-cycles after the battle in Mission City, a message containing the death and revival of Optimus Prime reached the nearing group of Autobots in space.

Four orns after that final exchange of communications a large group of Autobots landed on Earth, lead by a the newly bonded third and second in command of Optimus Prime. Their successful arrival marked the end of the war between Autobots and Decepticons on Earth and the beginning of a promising time of peace.

The End


	7. Week three Do not lean on the doors

Another story that falls into the additional week. This time the story was supposed to be for week three of the Anniversary Challenges. And after all the dark stuff it's also finally a try on the more humorus side again. Please enjoy!

Title: Do not lean on the doors!  
>Part: 11  
>Author: Usagi-Atemu-Tom<br>Anniversary Challenges: Week three prompt – #11 Do not lean on the doors!  
>Genre: slash, romance, humour<br>Warnings: Silliness  
>Rating: PG<br>Pairings: Jazz/Prowl  
>Feedback: Please, yes, I love feedback! =^^=<p>

Summary: Of course with Jazz everything is about doing it with style and fun. Too bad of course that the one time he wanted to do something serious, it gets him a one way ticket into the medbay.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine I don't make money with it and write only for fun and to get better in writing English. ^_^

Helpful Pointers:  
>Vorn - 83 years<br>Orn - 13 days  
>Joor - 8 hours<br>Breem - 6 minutes  
>Astrosecond - 56ths of a second  
>Klick - 1 millisecond<p>

Please note that I've only ever watched the two movies from 2007 and 2009. While I've 'met' a lot of Transformers from the comics and cartoons, that more often than not show up in fanfics I, of course, have not seen them in action and therefore might not be able to interpret their characters right. I am using mostly what I've learned through the movie (and maybe fanfics) and while catching some ideas here and there I am mainly using my very own ideas for things like energon, space bridges and so on.

And not to forget, much thanks to Taralynden for betareading.

* * *

><p>It was a normal, rather uneventful day on NEST headquarters. The sun stood high in the sky, shining brightly down onto the secret base inhabiting humans as well as alien beings from the far away planet Cybertron. Of course, with beings like the current Autobot army, peace and quiet could not last. All of a sudden, bright, booming laughter was disturbing the midday silence. Which would not have been an unusual occurrence had it not been for the fact that the source of the laughter was the medbay, a place where usually screams of terror, loud moans, complaining, protests and cursing were more commonly to be heard.<p>

Therefore laughter was something that would have bots running a mile from said medbay. And if the sound alone was not horrifying enough, add to this the fact that it was the resident medical officer who was currently laughing so hard he had to steady himself on his own tables, it would have been reason enough to find every single Autobot on base, including Optimus Prime, hiding in fear in the deepest, darkest corner they could find.

While Ratchet was busy trying to rein in his laughter, Jazz, second in command and Autobot saboteur, was sitting on one of the medicals berths, arms crossed and looking everywhere but directly at the CMO. Prowl, the third party of the little ensemble, was standing beside his currently pouting fellow officer, looking torn between sheepish and amused.

"This ain't funny!" Jazz finally complained, having had enough of the antics Ratchet was currently showing off.

"On the contrary, it is", Ratchet objected between fits of laughter still bursting through. "Only you... could be stupid enough... to not only fail with your... own prank but also end up falling so unfortunately... that you end up with a crushed transformation cog. Honestly, when I... remember how you aggravated our second in command all these past orns I... say you deserved exactly what you got."

"Mech, ya're not fair!" Jazz actually started to whine. "Ah've had perfectly good reasons t' do what Ah did."

"And those would be?" the medical officer sarcastically asked.

"Not tellin' ya!" the saboteur replied, face stubborn. Before the usually moody Autobot medical officer could voice his response, Prowl decided to take mercy on his fellow officer's situation and addressed the medic in his usual calm and collected voice.

"Ratchet, could you please take care of Jazz's problem before it becomes too late? I really have some more errands to run and I would like to make sure Jazz has taken no further damage from the nasty fall before I concentrate on work again."

Ratchet for once listened to the other bot and turned around to get the tools necessary with a deep vented sigh. Meanwhile both officers kept waiting along in silence, both stubbornly trying to avoid looking at the other.

How had things just gone so wrong? Jazz wondered and his mind returned to the cycle it all had started.

* * *

><p>At the very beginning, long before they landed on Earth, it all had been harmless enough. Things started right after they met for the first time as simple soldiers, when the war had already been raging on Cybertron. Jazz, the outgoing, ever happy saboteur and Prowl the dutiful but inaccessible tactician of the Autobot army.<p>

After Jazz had worked past Prowl's stubborn resistance to his attempts to socialise with the tactician, a feat he started out of determination because no one seemed to be able to do it, the saboteur realised he **liked **spending time with Prowl, because they had more in common than their comrades would ever have thought possible. They enjoyed deep conversations and discussions, both liked music, though Prowl was more selective in his music choice while Jazz was more open to any kind.

In the end, saboteur and tactician had become best friends. And it was not until a lot of time had gone by, that Jazz realised he felt a certain kind of attraction to his new and most important companion. It was the beginning of a new game. Jazz wanted to see if he would be able to woo the mech into his berth without spelling it out to him. It was a challenge, not meant to harm anyone but one to enjoy.

Jazz started with small things, sudden gifts and trying to get the tactician's attention outside of their little get togethers and work. He did a lot of crazy things and more often than not they certainly got Prowl's attention, though sadly nothing more.

One time he went so far out of his way that he ended up in the brig, courtesy of Prowl himself, naturally. But the longer the game went on, the more Jazz realised that he was feeling more than a heavy attraction to the other mech. Without noticing, he had fallen in love. And sparkdeep so, without a lot of hope to be saved.

Jazz liked to secretly refer to his feelings and antics for his best friend as a drug. Prowl was his drug of choice and he definitely wanted to keep that fix all to himself without anyone trying to get him sober.

The game of attention seeking the saboteur liked to play did not even end after their long separation and reunion on Earth. Quite the opposite, the Autobot officer with the transformation form of a Solstice put even more strength into his efforts. If his brush with near permanent deactivation had taught Jazz anything it was that he should get what he wanted and not wait any longer.

The saboteur's newest idea for gaining Prowl's attention was born from coincidence. One evening, when the building of the new NEST base had still been in the middle of being finished, Jazz had watched Prowl reprimanding the twins Sideswipe and Sunstreaker for something they did. During that stripping down, Sideswipe in his boredom leaned against the closed double door of the storage room, Prowl had confronted them in.

"Sideswipe, do not lean on the doors!" the second in command snapped at the twin, quite fed up.

Jazz watched, intruded as the silver looking twin took his sweet time to pull away from said door, aggravating the tactician further. It was that scene he witnessed, that gave birth to his new course of action.

* * *

><p>Barely a joor later, Prowl found Jazz leaning against the closed double doors of his office quite daringly, not moving an inch to come further into the room.<p>

"Jazz, what is this?" Prowl warily asked, already detecting the mischief the saboteur was emitting.

"Ah'm leanin' on th' doors, what does it look like?" Jazz retorted, voice innocent.

"Please, do not lean on the doors!" Prowl pointed out before waving the third in command further into the room. "Could you please sit, so we can start working on the next mission plan?"

But to his further surprise, Jazz simply waved his servo in a lazy gesture for the tactician to go on.

"Nya, just start talkin'. Ah'm quite comfortable where Ah'm."

The comment left Prowl speechless.

* * *

><p>It continued from there on. Jazz was found leaning on doors of the record room, the security room, the doors to the storage room, the hangers, the offices, wherever it was that Prowl and doors were in the same vicinity.<p>

Prowl's reactions to his fellow officer's antics varied from snapping and falling into an argument, to trying to ignore the saboteur even when he was blocking entries and exits to his fellow bots and the humans, including of course, Prowl himself. Jazz enjoyed the attention he received from the tactician, especially when they ended up having verbal fights about the point in leaning on doors.

But after he held on to his newest game for quite longer than any bot and soldier on base had placed a bet for, Jazz started to realise that as much as he enjoyed all their little fights and challenges they went through in that long time since he started his attention seeking of Prowl, he had reached a point where he craved far more. He did not want their arguments to end with Prowl dismissing him, walking away or trying to ignore him. Worse were those times when a really heated discussion between them had been interrupted by the Decepticons themselves.

No, Jazz wanted to have that which he had always been hoping for as an aftermath of a good, verbal fight. The saboteur wanted Prowl, all of the mech, preferably on his berth heated up and passionate just as much as he was in their fights. But if he learned any of the many things that made Prowl Prowl, it was that the tactician definitely was not a mech to enjoy simple berthplay. If he wanted a chance, it had to be real and honest from the very beginning. Jazz needed to tell him the truth, to finally come out in the open and confess his feelings.

Determined with his new plan of action, the saboteur planned to immediately put it into action. He marched into the tactician's office, coming to a stop right in front of his desk, looking intent and certainly surprising the second in command a great deal by not, as had become usual, leaning on the office doors. At least if the - for once - openly surprised look Prowl was shooting him was anything to go by.

Sadly, Jazz did not find out, what the reason for surprise was, because just when he opened his mouth, the alarm rang through the base informing the Autobots on an emergency mission that included Decepticons. Grumbling and in a sour mood Jazz left the office together with Prowl, vowing to continue the confession as soon as they were back.

* * *

><p>The time for that continuation extended to one full joor after the Decepticon attack because Jazz was stuck giving a report while Prowl needed to oversee the reparation of the twins, who got hit during a seeker attack in battle, fortunately with mostly just injured pride being left behind more than anything else.<p>

Finally the saboteur found himself back in Prowl's office, both Autobots entering the room together. Prowl, sensing that Jazz had something important to say, did not waste time walking over to his desk. Instead he stopped and turned around the moment both were inside and the door closed.

"So, Jazz, what is so important you need to tell me so urgently?" Prowl calmly asked, his face not betraying any of his thoughts if he felt confused or doubtful over whatever his friend might have to say.

The third in command looked at the tactician with an unusually serious face.

"Prowler, Ah've been dancin' around this for quite some time, because in all honesty it's been fun t' seek yer attention for all those many, many vorns. But now it's become quite serious for meh an' Ah realised that th' truth has t' be said. Ya deserves as much."

During his speech Jazz absentmindedly was about to, as had become his habit without him realising, lean against the doors to Prowl's office. The tactician even looked quite alarmed and started to open his mouth to say something, but the saboteur cut him off. What he had to say was too important to delay this even for one more sentence.

"Prowler, Ah love ya!"

No sooner had he said this, Jazz suddenly felt the support he was leaning against vanishing and before he knew what happened, he found himself laying on the ground his transformation cog and the plate of his aft hurting like the pit.

"Jazz!" Prowl was by his side immediately, his gaze a mixture of looking apologetic and smug. "I tried to warn you to not lean the doors. They open by touch now."

Which was why Jazz found himself in the situation he was, after they realised his transformation cog accidentally got squeezed so much during his fall, that he was no longer able to transform. Besides, the plate on his aft would really hurte a lot less if the metal was banged out.

Of course Ratchet had learned all about Prowl finally installing a little sensor on his doors that would allow them to open by touch alone in hope that it would get Jazz to stop his leaning on doors just to aggravate the tactician. Unfortunately Prowl's little payback hit Jazz in just that one moment when the saboteur had never intended to challenge the tactician in first place. Of course, the resident Autobot medic found the turn of events hilarious and he continued to laugh over the third in command's right until he was done with the repairing. The only good thing, Jazz decided mollified was that Prowl refused to tell Ratchet what serious talk this all had been about that ended with him unwillingly lying on the floor.

"All right, you are all done now Jazz", the medic finally released the saboteur from his mercy, though snickers still wavered within his voice. "Prowl maybe you can keep an optic on him for the next few breems to make sure that everything really is in order and he is without pain. Other than that, you are free to go, so now shoo!"

For the first part of their joint walk back to the second in command's office, both mechs fell into an awkward silence. Prowl obviously still felt a bit guilty about the whole incident, in spite of the fact that Jazz had had this coming for a long time now. The saboteur on the other hand, was busy deciding that of all the ways his love confession could have gone, this had to be the least stylish confession he ever accomplished. And that was not a good thing.

But done was done, he decided in the end and if he wanted to see where things were supposed to go from here, Prowl had to be reminded of the topic again.

"Ya know, Prowler, even though this went totally different from what Ah've planned, th' truth of th' matter still remains. All Ah ever tried t' accomplish wit' mah actions was t' get yer attention an' t' somehow tell ya wit'out words that Ah find ya attractive an' would not mind share more than conversation an' laughter wit' ya. Ah enjoyed th' challenge, though by now Ah've realised that Ah mahself like ya so much, that t' just keep this a game woulda been a crime t' mah feelin's."

As coincidence had it, by the time the third in command was done with his confession, they had reached the door to the tactician's office. The second in command turned around right in front of his door, his gaze focusing onto the other's faceplates while his hands typed in the code to his door without second thought.

"Beside the fact that you already **have **my undivided attention, Jazz, what you just told me is the very thing I have concluded watching your antics to gain my interest", Prowl told the saboteur with a small smirk playing around his lipplates. "And I have to confess to you that I **did **enjoy your attention seeking. Otherwise why do you think I have waited so long before tampering with that sensor on my door? I did not wish for our little game to end too soon."

And with those words he dragged the totally dumbstruck Jazz through the open door only to press him against his body and join their lipplates into a surprisingly heated kiss.

Needless to say the door to the tactician's office stayed closed for the next full joor.

The end


	8. Week Four Daring Rescue 3

Wow, so the final chapter turned out SO long I had to split it into two part, because I honestly cannot expect you people to read through over 30 pages straight. Thank you everyone for following this story. I hope you'll enjoy the final conclusion. And already here **BIG** thank you for my betareader again because she sacrificed a **LOT** off her precious time just to help me get this ready for the challenge without my obvious mistakes. Therefor your enjoyment of a grammatical correct text goes to her!

Title: A hidden femme's secret  
>Subtitle: Daring Rescue<br>Part: 3/3  
>Author: Usagi-Atemu-Tom<br>Verse: TF-Bayverse  
>Anniversary Challenges: Week four prompt – # Dark of the night - turns up in part 3.5<br>Rating: NC 17  
>Genre: romance, drama<br>Warnings: slash, mentions of abuse and talk about rape  
>Pairings: JazzProwl  
>Feedback: Please, yes, I love feedback! =^^=<p>

Summary: Jazz decides to go back to where it all started one more time to rescue the femmes she has grown up with. But this time her journey will not be alone. Prowl is as faithful as ever, ready to stand by her side. And he is determined to prove to the special ops agent, that he will never intentionally break the trust she put in him.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine I don't make money with it and write only for fun and to get better in writing English. ^_^

Helpful Pointers:  
>Vorn - 83 years<br>Stellar-cycle – 7.5 months  
>Orn - 13 days<br>Joor - 8 hours  
>Breem - 6 minutes<br>Astrosecond - 5/6ths of a second  
>Klick - 1 millisecond<p>

Please note that I've only ever watched the two movies from 2007 and 2009. While I've 'met' a lot of Transformers from the comics and cartoons, that more often than not show up in fanfics I, of course, have not seen them in action and therefore might not be able to interpret their characters right. I am using mostly what I've learned through the movie (and maybe fanfics) and while catching some ideas here and there I am mainly using my very own ideas for things like energon, space bridges and so on.

And not to forget, much thanks to Taralynden for betareading.

* * *

><p>"What do ya think, Prowler?" Jazz asked the tactician and turned her body around for assessment.<p>

Prowl looked over the changed body of the saboteur, optics taking in every detail while the look on his faceplates showed how unsure he was.

"You do not have to do this personally, Jazz", the Autobot second in command reminded his lover, but the special ops agent simply shook her head, a look of determination on her faceplates.

"Ah have t'", she told the mech rather softly. "Not only for mah friends who need meh, but for mahself as well. Ah've gotta overcome th' pit spawns of th' past, or they'll haunt meh forever. Ah realised that Ah'm still more hurt than Ah expected by mah past when Ah revealed the truth t' ya. Besides, Ah think mah friends could use a familiar, rather friendly face, after they've had t' bear that pithole for such a long time more."

The femme moved over to Prowl, body totally different from what their friends knew as "Jazz". Instead of the silver colour that predominated with the Pontiac Solstice transformation, she now wore white armour with flecks of blue and red as well as a black helm and servos. Her body was still small, even a bit bulkier than before, but she was missing the spikes and claws she possessed before. As for the visor, she kept the one she gained the moment she became "Jazz"; after all, the target knew that she gave away her first visor anyway.

As addition, the saboteur also had a new voice. A bit higher, yet smoky. All in all her whole appearance screamed femme, rather than mech.

"Is this how you looked before?" Prowl wanted to know, not able to hold back his curiosity when it came to Jazz. The femme laughed, grinning at the tactician rather cheekily.

"Like what ya see?" she teased her lover. "Don't get used t' it, because Ah'm getting rid of these looks th' moment Ah'm done wit' th' job. Ah like mah Pontiac Solstice form. But t' answer yer question, yeah Ah looked similar t' that. Not exactly th' same, but enough that Ah'll be recognised by mecha who're looking for meh."

The femme made another turn around in front of the second in command, her hips swaying rather invitingly. Prowl, however, knew the saboteur was not serious, just teasing him, and shook his head in slight amusement.

"Jazz either you stop that or I won't be held responsible for my actions", he threatened half-sparkedly. Truth to be told, he was glad Jazz had returned fully back to her old self some time during their journey back to Cybertron. Of course he knew that there was still a lot of emotional pain left deep inside, but on the whole the third in command got a grip of herself and more often than not meant it when she joked around or laughed. Otherwise he would not have teased her right back with such intimate suggestions.

"Mmmmh, tempting, tempting", the special ops agent purred right now as an answer to the tactician's threat, her engine revving in honest interest. "Ah think Ah'll need t' get back t' ya on yer offer when we're done wit' th' mission an' back t' our nice, shared quarters, don't ya agree?"

Grinning at her lover one last time, Jazz finally became serious again.

"Did you finish the plan for of my mission?" she wanted to know. Prowl nodded, handing her the data pad he had been studying while waiting for the saboteur's session with Ratchet to finish.

"You can go through the details while I have a talk with Hound, if you don't mind", the tactician suggested and Jazz nodded her agreement.

"Take a moment an Ah'll be done wit' th' reading."

She watched Prowl leave from the corner of her optics before fully concentrating on the report for the mission. It had been, the femme reflected, a hectic stellar-cycle for the Autobots. After Jazz and Mirage were able to identify the meeting place the Breeders used for their clients - that interrogation session certainly went by quickly, the mech already terrified the moment he spotted Jazz - Optimus had contacted Megatron and informed the Lord High Protector of the presence of a Breeder group on Cybertron he just learned of. Afterwards the two leaders of each faction, together with their command teams, joined forces to plan how to overwhelm the criminals without endangering the prisoner femmes.

It was Jazz who came up with the suggestion of infiltrating as a disguised femme, though she did not reveal her true involvement into the whole matter to those not already in the know. Once inside she would find a way to either smuggle out the prisoners or at least keep them safe while the rest of the team attacked the Breeders.

For the rough plan it was decided that in addition to Prowl and Jazz for the planning and execution, Wheels as well as Mirage would go with them as helpers to the infiltration. For the attack force it was decided on Ironhide, Chromia, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe as well as Starscream and his trine mates Thundercracker and Skywarp for air support. Also Skywarp's ability to turn up at any place at any time was considered a great help in getting the femmes out of there safely.

The last group of mechs to join in were Hound and Bumblebee, both skilled scouts whose task was to investigate the area where they assumed the hiding place of the Breeders to be. This was a task already taken care of. By now Jazz's team had a vague idea where the hiding place of the Breeders seemed to be and Bumblebee was already out watching the area while Prowl had hold Hound back for reasons the saboteur had not been privy to. However, as soon as the scout was done with his talk with the tactician he was supposed to join Bee in watching and alerting the offensive group when it was time to attack.

During their journey to Cybertron and after their arrival, Prowl had updated their plan continuously, changing details with each new piece of information they received. In the end even Jazz did not know the whole plan, hence the reason she was sitting in front of the half finished, rebuild medbay, scanning through the contents.

As it turned out, the saboteur knew most of the plan, it was overall what they worked out before. However, to her great surprise one important point had changed and the Autobot third in command was not sure if she liked the idea at all.

When her sensitive hearings detected the opening of a door followed by the familiar noise of steps, she addressed the nearing mech without looking up.

"Ya wrote somethin' about meh havin' a bondmate. Ah'm not sure Ah like this, Prowler. After all, who should be mah supposed bonded? Mirage? Starscream?"

"I considered Skywarp", the tactician answered her sarcastic question as seriously as ever. "However I decided against it, because not only would you be forced to work with an unfamiliar mech but with a former Decepticon."

Hearing her lover's voice caused Jazz's head to snap upwards, her disbelieving gaze finding that of the second in command. It was not so much the contents of what she had been told, but the voice itself. While she was able to distinguish her Prowl still, the voice she heard was different, smoother than before.

And now that she took a look at the tactician, the saboteur wondered if something was deeply wrong with her sight and hearing because in front of her stood a femme-looking, femme-sounding Prowl.

"Prowler, wha..." she trailed off when the armour her lover was bearing, seemed to flicker.

"In the end", the mech continued, as if he had not noticed the shock he had caused in his lover, "I decided that the most effective option for the role of your bondmate would be me since you had stated you trust me and I know about your secret."

"Is that Hound's little playthin'", the femme asked suspiciously.

Prowl nodded with a smile.

"I asked him if I could use it for this mission and he said yes. Ratchet built it out and back into my frame as well as recalibrating my voice a bit to fit my appearance. It works flawlessly and I programmed the form of a femme not too unlike my true form but still hard to recognise for mecha who don't know me personally."

"Prowl", the saboteur sighed, "this is very kind of ya but Ah'm still not sure this is a good idea. The mission is dangerous as it is. Ah don't want t' risk ya endin' up in th' same pithole as Ah did, or worse."

"Jazz!" the second in command interrupted the femme with a surprisingly stubborn tone in his slightly different sounding voice. "I won't back out of this. You are not going through this alone, I won't let you. What I said to you before was the truth. Jazz, you mean the world to me and I don't care if you are a femme or not. All I care about is you, your character, you strength, the honesty, the trust you showed me. You took a choice here, decided to face your past to help your friends but this time it's all different, because I refuse to leave your side. I will be with you. I will support you, and if worse comes to worst, then I will watch your back, just as you have always watched mine."

"Prowler", the third in command murmured, touched and she allowed herself to lean against her beloved's body. "All right, Ah accept yer offer, since ya're so insistent. But ya need t' promise meh that ya'll be careful. If somethin' goes wrong, ya gotta listen t' meh because Ah'm the special ops agent wit' th' experience. Stay by mah side, listen t' meh an' even unexpected situations should go through smoothly."

"Understood", the tactician confirmed. "Though you should know that as an enforcer I did some undercover missions once or twice myself, meaning I am not inexperienced in that area. You don't have to worry too much about my performance, therefore."

She looked at Prowl, adoration shining in the optics hidden behind her visor. The femme grazed her gaze over the concealed body, considerately.

"So, how accurately does Hound's little toy work?" she asked rather curiously. "Ah was told he upgraded it, but haven't had a chance yet t' see for mahself."

"You can touch the fake armour", the tactician answered, taking one of her servos and guided it to do just that right against his breastplates. "Not too firmly, however, or the illusion will be revealed. It goes also deep right in to the spark."

And just to prove his point, Prowl opened his chestplates and showed her his spark, which was right now glowing a dark blue instead of the lighter one he was supposed to have.

Jazz however did not care one bit about the fact that the spark did not bear the right colour. With bated air vents she took in the sight of the offered spark itself, both servos raised, hovering right in front of the opened chamber.

"Prowler, yer spark", she whispered. "Ya just showed meh yer beautiful spark, ya crazy mech. An' Ah don't care if it's supposed t' be lighter. Doesn't change how beautiful it is."

"Thank you, Jazz", Prowl told her while calmly closing his sparkcase again. Only his shivering doorwings betraying the emotions of honour and pride he felt for her compliment as well as the slight urge of shyness for such an unusual gesture of himself.

"Are we ready to go act through the plan then?" The tactician asked, after they both recovered from their unexpectedly intimate moment. Jazz turned serious immediately and nodded her head.

"We're ready", she confirmed.

"Then let's begin with operation: 'Daring rescue'."

* * *

><p>"Sparksong?"<p>

Finally, after three orns of running through the city nearest to the area where they suspected the Breeders to have their base, Jazz was addressed by the very femme she had been hoping to meet. It was high time as well, because the final cycle of Scapeground's supposed return was coming nearer and nearer.

Plastering a look of surprise and wonderment on her faceplate, the special ops agent turned around to take a look at the speaker. Darkfin had not changed much since the time they had separated. Though looking closer, it seemed the femme was glowing from a fresh paint job including an expensive Cybertronian waxing session. She was a sleek femme coloured in a dark magenta with fine yellow stripes on her servos and back.

The saboteur allowed herself a moment where she pretended to consider who the other might be, even exchanging a questioning glance with Prowl who obediently shrugged his shoulderplates as if he was not sure who the other femme was. Finally a look of realisation played over the Autobot femme's faceplates and she broke out into a surprised smile.

"Darkfin? Is that really ya? Ah can't believe it, ya're still alive? Wow, that's gotta be some coincidence, don't ya agree, Grace'?"

"If you say so, Sparksong", the tactician replied politely while studying the femme in open interest himself.

"What are ya doin' here?" Jazz turned back to Darkfin, her voice excited. "Ah have t' admit it's good t' see ya, no matter how much Ah implanted ya femmes wit' th' fact that we're not supposed t' meet each other."

"I live here", the other femme answered, a big and, now that Jazz was looking closely, slightly greedy-looking smile playing around her lipplates. "And such a coincidence that ya're here, 'Song because, yes I know ya told us to never contact each other but... I met up with some of the other femmes as well. They are still nearby and after the war and all, I doubt the Breeders group that held us still exists, ya know. Would ya like to meet the others again and see how they fared?"

"Ya really met some of the others?" the saboteur asked in fake, excited disbelief. "An' yes, ya're right, now that we had t' suffer through this heavy war an' it's over now, Ah doubt anythin' bad could come out of a friendly visit wit' the other femmes. If we're lucky, those slaggers all died durin' th' fightin'."

She stopped talking when Prowl pretended to become impatient and gave a rather loud cough. The saboteur then looked like she was listening to something only she could hear before turning back to the curious Darkfin.

"Oh Ah'm sorry, where're mah manners? If Ah may introduce t' ya mah bonded? Her name is Gracelike."

"A pleasure to meet you", Prowl greeted the cunning femme, holding out his servos for introduction. "Designation, Gracelike."

"Oh, such a nice designation", the magenta coloured femme cooed. "My designation is Darkfin and I am an acquaintance from Sparksong's past."

Smiling at the nodding Prowl she looked back at Jazz with curious optics.

"Ya bonded, Sparksong?" Darkfin got into the topic, her voice excited. "Aww, you are so lucky, femme. So, how did that happen?"

"Met her during war", Jazz obediently told the curious femme. "Got on well t'gether, then fell in love, and in the end asked for a bond."

"Oh, that sounds romantic", Darkfin gushed, her smile wide and mostly friendly. She was interrupted in her exclamations by Prowl, however.

"Now that you've introduced us, Sparksong, what is this about meeting with other femmes?" Prowl wanted to know. "Do you wish to see them, because if you do, I'll need to make a quick call to Strike to let him know that we'll be coming later.

Darkfin looked at the two bots curiously.

"Are ya expected somewhere?" she wanted to know. "Because we could always meet again for another time. If ya are around here longer, that is."

Jazz quickly shook her head, smiling at the other femme, while waving a servo at Prowl carelessly.

"Nya, now's just fine", the saboteur told her. "We were only planning to see the apartment we were considering to buy. But that can certainly wait in face of the chance to meet some more of the girls again."

"Ya want to settle down here?" Darkfin asked, while she waited together with Jazz for Prowl to end the comm call. The Autobot femme nodded, smiling softly at her supposed bonded.

"Since Cybertron's still in th' middle of bein' built back t'gether, here's just as good as anywhere else", the saboteur explained. "Besides, mah bonded needs th' rest a stable home has t' offer. After all, she's expectin' a sparklin'."

At these words Prowl could not help but look at Jazz, surprised, optics glowing bright. However, the impromptu explanation was nothing the Autobot tactician could not handle.

"Sparksong", he chastised gently. "What did I tell you about telling strangers about this?"

Jazz grinned right back at the mech, faceplates unabashed.

"But Darkfin's no stranger. Ah know her from th' past, ya know, mah 'before'."

"Ah", the tactician acknowledged and nodded his head respectfully at the other femme. "So you have survived **that**. I am glad to see you fine and functioning then."

"Thank ya", she replied, pleased. "Well then, shall we go to my place? I can comm the others during our walk to meet us there."

"Sure", the saboteur said and took Prowl's servo in her own as they began to their journey, led by Darkfin. The femme used the time to comm her accomplices, not knowing that Jazz had no problems in intercepting her commline and listening in to her report of finding Sparksong as well as an expecting femme.

As anticipated, Darkfin received the order to lead them to the "usual spot" and that she would find drugged energon prepared for her use to knock the two femmes out.

Jazz did not need to know more. It was mostly as they had expected though the spiked energon was something concerning her. Using the fact that the traitorous femme was distracted with her own call, the third in command used a secured commline to alert Prowl.

~They wanna feed us spiked energon~, the saboteur quickly told him. ~Do ya know if Hound's toy will work even if ya in recharge or knocked offline?~

The tactician quickly searched through the information he had been given before he nodded slightly at her in confirmation.

~Hound's instructions say it is going to stay activated until being adjusted otherwise~, the second in command told the femme saboteur. ~You wish to for us to drink the energon even though you know the consequences?~

~Need t' make sure they don't suspect anythin'~, Jazz affirmed, her tone over the commline slightly sour. ~Ain't likin' this too much, but Ah know mah job, know when t' perform an' when t' play along. This time we've t' play along. At least til we're wit' th' prisoner femmes. Ah'm sorry, Prowler.~

~Acknowledged~, the tactician calmly replied. ~And don't be sorry, Jazz. This is our job right now, I am not unfamiliar with having to do some things I would rather not.~

~Thanks, Prowler~, the femme replied and quickly squeezed his servo. Then she made a short move with her head, indicating that Darkfin was about to complete her commcall and therefore they could no longer use their own comm. Prowl nodded back to her and looked straight ahead, just as if he was concentrating on the way they were going, while Jazz put her full attention to the other femme.

"What did they say?" the saboteur wanted to know, face eager. Darkfin looked a bit caught for an astrosecond but quickly pulled herself together and grinned openly at her fellow femme.

"I did not tell them", she told the other two. "I only mentioned that I am with someone I would really like to introduce. They told me they'll be there within the next three breems or so. Enough time for us to liven up to the happy occasion. I mean, honestly we need to celebrate this get-together, don't we?"

"Sure we do", Jazz agreed cheerfully and even Prowl managed a small, sincere looking smile. "So, how far away's yer livin' place?"

"Just around the corner", Darkfin answered, equally happy. The walk had not taken long, less than a breem even. The femme, as unsuspecting of her company's true intentions as she thought them to be of hers, led them to a nice looking apartment built right next to an old, half-destroyed factory. Not much was going on here. Most mecha were either at the nearest city, helping with the rebuilding or resting in their respective homes from the work they had done before.

The appartment did not look too threatening, not like some of the slums had looked like after Jazz successfully escaped from the Breeders. The femme led them to an apartment on the second floor. Inside it looked cosy. In fact the facility was certainly rather expensive, especially when one remembered how war-torn the planet still was.

Whistling slightly in fake appreciation, the saboteur allowed her gaze to sweep over the room.

"This looks really nice, Darkfin", she told her fellow femme. "A bit on the expensive side, but nice."

"Thank ya", Darkfin replied, glowing slightly. "I know, since the war just ended I should not live in such luxury, but I am working as a consultant and I need to give the right impression."

"Ah, that's okay, Ah guess", Jazz reassured her. "Say, what kind of consulting do ya do?"

"I'll tell ya after we sit down wit' something to drink, that all right?" the femme carefully eluded giving a direct answer, vanishing inside a room that the two Auotobots supposed was the energon preparation room. She quickly returned with three cubes of fine looking high grade in her servos, nodding her head over to the biggest room, which hold comfortable looking seats as well as a table and some technical toys.

"Shall we sit down?"

"That would be appreciated", Prowl answered to Jazz's secret surprise. "I am starting to feel a bit tired. I hope the high grade you are so kindly offering is mild one? I need to be careful with the spark I carry."

Realising what the tactician was up to, the third in command smiled at her fellow officer, satisfied. Prowl just proved that he certainly was no beginner in getting undercover. Even though the saboteur had improvised, the tactician knew about carrying femmes and that they usually felt a bit sour around their sparkcase while hosting the evolving spark.

It was also never a good idea to drink potent high grade, since the stronger form of energon was able to affect a spark. Nothing serious that a grown spark could not handle, but for a small sparkling high grade was just like too much air for a ballon. The little spark could simply burst.

"Oh no, I certainly remembered yer condition, Gracelike", Darkfin was quick to reassure. She hold out a cube with slightly lighter-looking energon.

"This is mild highgrade. Ya'll be willing to drink that one, yes?"

Accepting the cube, Prowl made sure to give the femme a small, sincere looking smile.

"This will do, thank you", he nodded his appreciation and took a place at the couch-like seat, signalling for Jazz to sit down beside him, while Darkfin took her place right opposite to the two mechs. She hold out one cube for the saboteur to take, before smiling at both of them encouragingly.

"Shall we drink, then talk about how we've fared all these orns until the others arrive?" she asked with a grin, and Prowl nodded while Jazz smiled right back. Raising her cube, she added a suggestion.

"Let's drink a toast to something while we wait for the others to arrive."

"Sure", Jazz agreed easily enough, holding out her cube of energon. "So, what are we toasting to?"

"How about a bright future of freedom?" Prowl suggested. The other two femmes agreed.

"To a bright future of freedom!" all three said aloud, raising their cubes. Jazz looked right at Prowl, smiling lovingly while taking one of his servos in her own, squeezing it. To Darkfin it must look like an affectionate couple of bonded femmes exchanging small gestures of love. In truth however, the tactician realised the very thing he had suspected from the beginning, which was one of his reasons to volunteer himself for the mission: As tough and unafraid as the saboteur acted, and the way he was used to acting during missions, this time the femme was deeply afraid of what would happen after they drank the spiked energon.

They had planned everything, carefully acting only after they made sure the plan was as fool-proof as it could be. However, both mecha had served in war long enough to know that sometimes even the most carefully constructed plan could be destroyed by a tiny, unforeseen event. Therefore, even though both officers were as hedged against risks as possible, a small uncertainty remained and for Jazz, who had gone through this pithole once, it was everything she could do, to stay calm and keep her act going. She only allowed herself to keep grounded by one thing. She squeezed the tactician's servos so much, that it felt like she was about to break each finger through strength alone.

Prowl however took the pressure without complaint. He did not pull a face, instead he looked calm and composed, sending a small smile right back at his supposed bondmate. The reassurance behind the hidden message helped greatly. Jazz calmed down a lot, releasing the pressure against her partner's servos and her smile widened a fraction.

Squeezing her servos slightly himself, Prowl took his first, careful drink of the energon, his optics never leaving the visor of his lover. Jazz took the hint, squeezed quickly back and then emptied the cube in one quick gulp.

The whole exchange happened in astroseconds, therefore Darkfin of course had not noticed anything. She smiled slightly to herself after both bots emptied their drinks.

"Nice high grade", Jazz complimented the femme in a good mood. "Where did ya get it? Jeez, Ah'll already feel fuzzy from it an' Ah only took one little shot."

"That might be 'cause you had t' gulp down the whole thin' at once", Prowl chastised his partner, his voice already slurring himself and both bots could feel their processors slowing down, their world starting to spin.

The saboteur was the first to act like she realised something was wrong.

"Feel too fuzzy", she murmured, her head moving slowly to look at Darkfin suspiciously. "Wha's goin' on?"

Prowl, who was not able to tolerate tampered energon or high grade as well as Jazz, with her special ops modifications, slumped against the femme, already deep in recharge. The saboteur could feel herself losing control of her own body as it slowly sank against her supposed bondmate's. The last thing she saw was Darkfin looking at her in fake regret.

"I'm so sorry, Sparksong", the femme crooned. Then darkness claimed the saboteur's body.

* * *

><p>When Jazz came to again, her optics, hidden behind her visor, onlined to a dark, cold room. For a klick she felt disorientated enough that she wanted to panic. However thanks to her special programming her processor was fast at fighting off the remaining effects of the tampered energon that she had been forced to drink and she remembered her role.<p>

Where others would stay sluggish and disorientated for quite some time, her processor had already returned to its usual sharpness and memory files played inside her mind, reminding her exactly what happened and how she was supposed to act. Groaning far louder than she ever would have done as Jazz, she moved her head furiously, gaze sweeping the room, when she failed to get up after the third futile attempt.

"'Grace?" she fearfully called out to the darkness, the tone only half an act. Even though the special ops agent was confident she could pull through alone, with all those past memories, she would be happier if she and Prowl had not been separated for this task.

After her sixth call a groan near her right answered, much to her delight. Unable to get up, the femme dragged her body along the ground, half crawling, half shuffling, until she could feel herself touch the other's body in the darkness.

Two familiar blue orbs onlined exactly that moment and Jazz instinctively pulled a servo against the tactician, restraining him from talking while whispering urgently.

"Give herself a moment t' order yer processor", she instructed the second in command calmly. "Ya still feelin' a bit strange, try t' sort through yer memory files before ya ask anythin' ya might be able t' answer just as well if ya only waited a bit longer."

The slight movement of the glowing optics indicated to the femme that Prowl nodded before silence descended over the room. Jazz cuddled closer to the tactician, seeking and needing the comfort and assurance she knew her friend and lover had to offer.

Finally, while tightening his arms around her body, the second in command raised his voice falling right into his role.

"I am all right, Sparksong", he truthfully assured the saboteur. "What happened?"

"Ah don't know", the femme whispered, voice sounding scared. "But Ah think someone spiked our high grade."

"Why would someone do that?" the mech replied, confused though calm. It was in that moment, that a door, which they had not been able to see before, opened silently. Jazz and Prowl only heard it, because both of them had their sensitivity about noises, something very helpful for a soldier but not exactly usual for an average mech, hiding during a civil war.

Which was the main reason why the Autobot second and third in command pretended to not have noticed the slight movement of the door at all.

"Where is your friend, Darkfin?" the tactician wondered, voice worried. "Is she in the room with us?"

"Ah've no idea", Jazz sighed. "Ah was only able t' feel yer spark close, though didn't make findin' ya much easier wit' th' darkness an' all."

As if on cue light suddenly flooded the room. Blinking and recalibrating their optics to the sudden change in light, the two bots realised that they had been held in a small office, which seemed part of an old factory, if the half destroyed ceilings and walls were anything to go by.

The next thing they noticed was Darkfin, who came towards them, arms open and face slightly sad and guilty.

"Sparksong! Gracelike! I am so sorry", the femme cried, looking devastated as she threw herself into her fellow femmes arms. "Ah had no choice. They told meh that if Ah did not listen to their orders, they would hurt the other femmes."

"They?" Sparksong rose, alarmed but she was interrupted by a new, though familiar voice addressing her.

"Good cycle, Sparksong", a mech twice Jazz's height with a red-silver colouring purred at the femme. "It's so nice to be back in ye pleasant company after all these orns. I have to admit, we missed ye very much."

The saboteur whirled around, pushing the femme in her arms away as her shocked and angered faceplates met the smirking gaze of the through and through smug looking mech.

"Fender!" she shouted, barely able to conceal her fear. "Ya piece of slagging scrap metal. How'd ya survive th' war?"

"Awww, such concern", the mech mocked the femme, pretending to be hurt while pointing a weapon straight at her. "And here I thought ye would be happy at the chance of seeing ye dear friends again. Look at Darkfin for example. The poor dear has missed ye so much. Oh and don't even think about attacking me, or ye little bondmate over there'll pay the price."

Jazz moved her gaze from the weapon now pointed at her supposed bondmate, over to the other femme, who was pretending to sob heartily into her servos. However, instead of looking resigned or willing to comfort, the saboteur's faceplates scrunched into a cold mask of indifference.

"Don't take meh for stupid", the Autobot femme quietly exclaimed, moving over to Prowl and pulling him into her arms as if trying to protect the tactician from the evil that were the Breeders. "Ya weren't forced, Darkfin. Ya traitor, how could ya do that t' meh, t' US?"

"What are ya talking about?" the femme asked, her sobs diminishing, voice hurt and confused.

"Don't ya dare think Ah'd ever forget about mah cycles in yer custody, ya slaggers. Ya look too good for one captured by a Breeder. Yer paint's spotless, far above what we had t' look like when serving customers. An' th' polish is shiny an' smells nice. In fact Ah recognise it. That's Flaxlight, the finest polish Cybertron had t' offer right after th' war. Very expensive, certainly nothin' one of these aftheads would care t' pay for if ya were a little femme held prisoner."

Jazz stopped a moment to glare heatedly at the other femme, whose faceplate was slowly morphing from sad and hurt into a cold, dismissive sneer.

"So tell meh, was th' meetin' other femmes even true? Ah bet ya didn't find any of them after our escape. After all, Ah told each of ya back then, t' split an' avoid to contact each other."

At these words, Fender and Darkfin started to laugh loud and mockingly.

"Oh ya stupid femme?" Darkfin glowered. "We knew that ya would try to break out all of th' miscreants, devoted followers that they were to ya. That's the very reason I was smuggled into ya crowd. Originally I was supposed to destroy every plan ya came up with. But we soon realised ya were cleverer than we gave ya credit for. Therefore we decided the best way was to get them all back just after they broke out, before ya split."

"Impossible", the saboteur breathed disbelief thick within her voice. "While Ah certainly believe yer reason of spying out our group, Ah made sure that every of th' femmes knew how important it was t' split."

"Oh but while none of ya ever trust a mech, ya forgot how very trusting th' other, processorless little things are about femmes. So very trusting. It was quite easy, really. I suggested before we could split, if it wouldn't be better to stick together, gain strength in numbers. I told them to stay in a certain place and wait til I found ya. And just like that we all had them back again."

The femme grinned cruelly at the two Autobots, while Jazz cried out in denial.

"And do ya know what's best? Ya helped me find a way to restrain the little bitlets. They've been good little femmes all these vorns, because they feared we might hurt YA. Remember the visor ya left me as I requested? I only had to show them that little present as proof that we had ya in custody again, held isolated, so ya would not spread funny ideas into their processors again and they did everything we wanted them to, begging even to please, please not hurt ya."

"Ya fragger!" Jazz roared, this time with real anger. She just could not help herself, as much as her special ops training taught her differently. The saboteur had known of the betrayal, yes, and she prepared herself for all the nastiness she would receive during her mission. But to hear Darkfin, a femme just like herself, speak in that dismissive and mocking tone about the fate of their fellow femmes, it angered the special ops agent more than she had anticipated.

The Autobot third in command was about to attack the other femme, Fender and his weapon be dammed, but the sudden, heavy servo on her shoulder held her back.

"'Song?" the Autobot femme heard Prowl whisper fearfully and she whirled around. Faceplates scrunched up in open fear, the tactician was the utter picture of uneasiness and being subdued. However one look at his optics and Jazz knew the truth. Steady glow met her gaze, telling one message: Stay calm!

Slumping against her lover's body in defeat the saboteur could at least watch from the corner of her optics how Darkfin lost the tense, fearful stance she had taken on just klicks before. She certainly just realised that she should be afraid of her and this small knowledge would satisfy her hungry anger for now.

Fender, realising the current defeat, used this chance to get back to business.

"Darkfin, did you check their stories while they were out?"

Getting herself back together, the traitors femme returned attention to the Breeder, though one optic kept the saboteur at sight all time.

"Yes, I did the usual", she answered, all business and with cold calculation. "Song has been hiding during war, came out just after the peace pronouncement reached Cybertron. Works for a construction group that helps rebuilding Cybertron, though tries to keep a low profile.

"Gracelike had been part of a Neutral group during the war, helping organise the hiding places and reinforcement of supplies. Now that the war is over she's part of the staff that plans the rebuilding and she as a stand-in advisor. Honestly, all boring stuff. She lives by the book, arriving early at her working place, leaving last, nothing exciting. Oh and of course I checked both of them over. Sparks are clear and Boring over there is definitely carrying. The spark is still in the middle of development, but certainly healthy. They told the truth."

Jazz, after hearing the first words about Darkfin checking their sparks over, had to suppress the urge to flinch, but when she heard about Prowl's spark indeed containing a small sparkling's spark, she immediately had a hard time not to show her surprise instead.

Prowl of course knew exactly what was going through her processor and he showed the femme one of his rare, superior looking smirks. The saboteur knew what this look meant. Prowl had adjusted right after the change of plans with her mentioning the sparking and altered the commands for Hound's toy to not only portray a femme spark, but second spark as well. Never before had Jazz been as thankful as she was now that she had insisted and drilled Prowl just as much for spontaneity as the tactician had insisted with her that she follow a plan through without sudden, unexpected extra moves.

"Good, so they are clear to be taken in and no one will really notice", Fender concluded after hearing Darkfin's report, voice satisfied. "Scapeground will be rather please to hear this, when he returns."

"Scapeground?" Jazz barked at hearing that name. "That afthead is alive as well? Ya slaggers, ya'll regret survivin' th' war soon enough."

"Oh please, dear Sparksong", the current leader of the Breeder dismissed her threats. "As if ye could ever do anything stuck as ye are right now. Remember, every stupidity ye do, ye bonded will learn to regret. And to answer ye question, yes Scapeground is very much alive. In fact ye'll love to hear this, he is right now on Earth, overseeing the bonding ceremony between Softglow and one of our newest customers. Ye'll be happy to hear ye femme friend is the first to be bonded."

Growling, but otherwise forced to stay put given that Fender was once again pointing his weapon at Prowl, Jazz had to watch helplessly as the two Breeders laughed at her expense.

"Well, since we are done with the pleasantries", the Breeder addressed Darkfin, his voice businesslike again. "Darkfin, please make sure that everything is in order and secured. After you are done take some of the mechs and escort our new guests to their respective cells."

"Of course, boss", the femme acknowledged before smirking in the direction of the two Autobots.

"See ya later, bitbrains", she singsonged before getting out of the door.

"Ye excuse me, I have business to take care of", Fender also retreated, his voice once again mocking. "But don't mind the short waiting and please enjoy ye stay."

Laughing he stepped out of the door, closing it soundly behind him. The moment the noise died down, darkness enveloped the room once more. Prowl and Jazz however did even twitch. They sat where they had been left, listening with their special senses, while Jazz also checked the room for bugs and hidden cameras. Finding the usual and knowing how to avoid them, even with her most obvious programs being offlined, the femme leaned against the tactician, letting out a too low sigh for the microphones to record.

"Sorry for th' outburst," the saboteur whispered in tones so soft that they could not be heard with audials, relying on Prowl's sensitive doorwings to pick up the faint vibrations and interpret them.

"Don't be", the second in command murmured against her sensor horns. "You are one of the most controlled Autobot soldiers I know. If you lost your cool, you had good reasons to."

"Not good enough, Ah fear, just anger an' bitterness about th' past", Jazz admitted before letting out another sigh through her air vents again. Anyway, th' plan mostly stands. Any questions though?"

"Yes, the sparkling", Prowl replied in a whisper, straight to the point. "Should I maintain the illusion?"

"Ah yes", the femme nodded, smiling slightly which Prowl however could not see in the darkness. "When we met Darkfin Ah suddenly remembered that th' Breeders used t' throw a new femme straight into business, so t' say. If they already collected regular customers willin' for fresh energon, chances are, ya woulda been given t' them immediately. We can't risk that, not wit' th' kind of plan we have. Ah sparklin' however, changes th' situation. Sparksharin' wit' anyone but th' creator is dangerous for th' undeveloped spark. Besides, why send a femme already wit' a sparklin' sharin' if th' sparklin' is th' goal? You'll be safe until extraction, which of course is set for long after we'll be through wit' them."

Nodding in understanding, a movement Jazz was able to feel because the tactician had rested his head right on hers, Prowl added one more question.

"And what about you?"

Here the special ops agent could not help but chuckle.

"Noticed how afraid Darkfin has been most durin' our little discussion?" the saboteur voiced his question no louder than a breeze.

"Of course it was impossible not to", the second in command replied.

"For ya maybe, but amateurs might not have noticed her fear", the femme corrected before she continued. "Anyway, Fender and Darkfin know how dangerous Ah'm. They need time t' calm meh, t' tame meh, therefore they cannot rush things wit' meh. It's all th' time we need t' get th' femmes out there."

"Understood", Prowl acknowledged quickly, because both bots could sense a number of mecha arriving at their current prison. It did not take long for a number of beings to enter and when the lights came back on, five mech Breeders surrounded the two prisoners, while Darkfin stood at the door, looking uncomfortable and impatient.

"All right, let's get this over with. Sparksong. Gracelike. Follow me quietly or ya regret it!"

She turned around and the two bots had no other choice but to follow, surrounded and threatened with the loaded weapons of their warden as they were. The walk did not take long and soon the group stopped in front of a metallic looking door that seemed to hold a boiler room of the factory.

"Sparksong, in there if you please!" the other femme mocked-ordered, which earned her a growl from the saboteur, though nothing more. The door opened, which caused an ear splitting howl to be heard all over the place before with a snarl the Breeder femme seemed to take care of the problem with a silent command.

Taking one reluctant step forward, Jazz realised that Prowl was not following. Turning around rather sharply, the Autobot femme noticed that three of the Breeder were holding the tactician in a tight grip, which the Autobot barely tolerated with an unreadable look on his faceplates.

"What about Gracelike?" the saboteur demanded to know. It earned her a snort from the other femme.

"She's certainly not staying with ya!" Darkfin simply answered, voice cold.

"No, Gracelike! Grace!" Jazz started to struggle against her captors, who reacted by pushing her with force in the direction of the open door. "Ah'm not goin' wit'out her! Leave meh alone ya fraggers! Grace!"

And through the act of panic and defiance true fear glowed inside her optics, hidden by her visor. However, when she looked at Prowl she realised immediately that he had been able to read her true emotions behind the mask like a book. Because, just as he was able to read her, she was able to read him perfectly and right now, while his body showed barely suppressed panic and fear, his optics, bright and dark in colour, reflected serenity, telling the nearly panicking femme one thing: Calm!

Giving in, Jazz allowed the mechs to shove her through the door which immediately fell shut. Screaming one more time for her supposed bonded, Jazz sunk down in defeat against the wall right under a small, ventilation opening. Too bad the thing was too small for her to get through.

Acting like her emotions had taken complete control over her, she did not acknowledge the femmes her sharp ops senses already noticed even before she had been shoved over the step. Her head only snapped into the direction of the huddled group of femmes when she heard a voice disrupting the silence of her fake sobs.

"Sparksong?"

tbc...


	9. Week Four Daring Rescue 3 point 5

Title: A hidden femme's secret  
>Subtitle: Daring Rescue<br>Part: 3.5/3  
>Author: Usagi-Atemu-Tom<br>Verse: TF-Bayverse  
>Anniversary Challenges: Week four prompt – # Dark of the night<br>Rating: NC 17  
>Genre: romance, drama<br>Warnings: slash, death (no main character), mentions of abuse and talk about rape, description of interfacing (non-sticky)  
>Pairings: JazzProwl  
>Feedback: Please, yes, I love feedback! =^^=<p>

Summary: Jazz decides to go back to where it all started one more time to rescue the femmes she has grown up with. But this time her journey will not be alone. Prowl is as faithful as ever, ready to stand by her side. And he is determined to prove to the special ops agent, that he will never intentionally break the trust she put in him.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine I don't make money with it and write only for fun and to get better in writing English. ^_^

Helpful Pointers:  
>Vorn - 83 years<br>Stellar-cycle – 7.5 months  
>Orn - 13 days<br>Joor - 8 hours  
>Breem - 6 minutes<br>Astrosecond - 5/6ths of a second  
>Klick - 1 millisecond<p>

Please note that I've only ever watched the two movies from 2007 and 2009. While I've 'met' a lot of Transformers from the comics and cartoons, that more often than not show up in fanfics I, of course, have not seen them in action and therefore might not be able to interpret their characters right. I am using mostly what I've learned through the movie (and maybe fanfics) and while catching some ideas here and there I am mainly using my very own ideas for things like energon, space bridges and so on.

And not to forget, much thanks to Taralynden for betareading.

* * *

><p>Jazz sat huddled down at the same place she occupied since the moment she had been shoved into her new prison. The femmes, all former fellows in misery when they had been taken by the Breeders the first time, had recognised her immediately, expressing their relief at seeing her after only been told that she was still alive ever since their recapture.<p>

They had tried as best as they could to comfort the seemingly sparkbroken Sparksong and Jazz had taken her time to carefully observe each and every femme for any sign that another traitor was put among them. When she could find nothing but sincere concern, she acted as if she had finally calmed down and started to ask about their health and situation. Learning as much as she could about what happened after her escape, the saboteur wasted no time to inform the other prisoners that she had never again been a prisoner after the escape until now and how Darkfin turned out to be a traitor, a femme paid by the Breeders and doing her job without a care for her fellow femmes.

The disbelief and later rage and upset was certainly sincere from what Jazz could see. Joors had gone by where the femmes talked and were brought some rather cheap tasting energon. Finally the Autobot third in command had been able to coax the prisoner femmes into a rather exhausted recharge. Now, she was waiting for the very sign she knew would initiate step three of their plan.

The awaited signal happened a quarter joor after the femmes had fallen into recharge. The saboteur was faking her own charge when her sensitive senses noticed a small noise just above her head where the opening of the air vent could be located. Concentrating the Autobot femme waited until she hear the noise again. It was a small sound, not unlike a petrorat sounded when it scurried along the metallic pipes inside a building.

"Wheels!" Jazz whispered, quiet enough that neither bugs nor the femmes would be able to hear it.

"Jazz!" an equally quiet whisper replied and then the tiny head of the former Decepticon gazed out of the vent. While the opening was certainly too small to allow Jazz through, the tiny ex-Decepticon with the alt-mode of a toy car, never had a problem getting through. In fact, he was so small that he fit perfectly well into one of Prowl's hidden compartments inside his chest armour. The very compartment Darkfin had not noticed when she searched through the drugged Autobot second and third in command.

"How's Prowl?" was the first thing the special ops agent wanted to know after he had been assured that it was really Wheels sitting inside the vent.

"Fine", the former Decepticon whispered back. He's sitting inside a room just like yours waiting for my return with some nice femmes at his side, lucky mech."

Tilting his head a bit so she could glare right at the tiny mech, Jazz bared her teeth in a small threatening gesture.

"Wheels, this is no fun trip and the femmes here have been through enough shit", she told him sharply, but quietly. "Let's not waste precious time. Report, what did you get out?"

Giving a soft noise of apology, Wheels concentrated on his job.

"Prowl's been isolated but taken care of well so far", he reported seriously. "He is with 5 femmes, just like you. There are no more prisoners as far as I could tell and I really swept through the whole base. The doors to your room and Prowl's are always watched by two mechs. There is also a alarm system installed into the door, that will sound this awful noise every time the door is opened, whether with the right code or not. I was able to hack into the system without their notice to take a closer look, but it's nearly impossible to change the code or avoid it. I am not sure if even you could pull it off. Anything you do will always lead back to triggering this noise. They certainly seem to be afraid that another breakout could take place."

Jazz nodded understandingly, faceplates hard and grim.

"They prepared for mah capture", she concluded. "They certainly know that Ah'm good at these kind of things, even if they've no idea how good Ah've really become. Seems hackin' through th' door's locks an' overwhelmin' th' guards just became out of the question."

"Sorry, but I fear you are right", Wheels agreed. "Of course I could always report back to Ironhide, give him the coordinates and they start an attack which should give you the time to move out the femmes."

"No, too risky", Jazz objected. "Even wit' a surprise attack, Ah don't expect Fender t' be as stupid as t' not send some Breeders t' watch us. Wit' weapons involved th' femmes are at risk, no matter if th' Breeders are more interested in keepin' them alive. No, our original plan certainly just went out of th' window wit' ya current report, Wheels."

"What about the trustworthiness of the femmes?" the tiny Cybertronian wanted to know.

"Ah talked t' each of them", the saboteur told him. "They're genuine in their emotions. None's another agent put in t' spy on us, as far as Ah can tell an' this time Ah'm certain that Ah'm good enough at mah job t' not oversee a traitor when she stands in front of mah optics. What about Prowler's group?"

"Clean, just as yours as far as we can tell", Wheels reported back. "But just in case I recorded the whole discussion between our second in command and the femmes on a datafile for you to look through. Catch!"

And with those words a small, barely to be seen data chip fell from the opening of the vent into Jazz's already waiting servos. She immediately inserted the chip into her hidden port where she was able to get access to it whenever she wanted, without anyone being the wiser. Looking through the contents, while Wheels waited more or less patiently in his hiding place, the Autobot femme finished her observation with a satisfied grunt, pulling out the chip again and throwing it right back into the vent where the small ex-Decepticon caught it rather clumsily.

"They're clean", Jazz told the small mech. "As for our next step, since plan Gamma's for naught, are ya aware of plan Delta?"

"Of course I am", Wheels snorted. "It was Prowl who instructed me, or have you forgotten? He certainly made sure that I'm aware of every stupid detail, even things I really did not care to know about nor do I need to."

Chuckling the saboteur acknowledged the former con's awareness of the plans.

"Well then get th' pit our of here an' report th' position back t' our friends. Tell Mirage t' get ready an' Ironhide t' make his move. Prowl an' Ah're waitin' for his sign."

"Understood, Jazz", Wheels confirmed quietly. He started his careful retreat inside the vent, though not before addressing the Autobot third in command one last time?

"And Jazz?"

"Yes?"

"Good luck!"

"Thanks, mechlet!" the saboteur chuckled. Then the soft, scraping noise was gone, indicating that she was alone with the femmes and her own fears and worries of a plan's failure.

* * *

><p>Because it was part of her act, Jazz had forced herself into recharge even if everything inside her spark and processor was screaming for her not to do so. Still sensitive to every single noise however, the saboteur startled online again, when steps indicated someone nearing the door.<p>

Then the loud noise of the alarm penetrated the silence of a new cycle, startling all the other resting femmes out of recharge. It was Fender with nine other Breeders, who walked into the room.

"Prepare yeself for leaving, sweetsparks", the leader shouted at the scared femmes huddled together into one corner. Jazz, already back into her role as protector stood right in front of them all, glaring at mech.

"An' where do ya think, we're goin'?"

Sending the troubling saboteur a dark look, the Breeder flexed his servos, his body tense.

"Ye're accompanying us to the place where we usually meet customers", he finally told her, adding threateningly. "And ye're following quietly or ye bondmate'll pay the price of ye disobedience, understood?"

Gnashing her teeth, Jazz forced her own body to relax, when the mechs came over to give every single femme apart from herself a quick polish of their armour.

"We've a prospective buyer", the Breeder explained to the mecha present. "Each wants their own bondmate and if they're satisfied with our service, they might be able to organise two more interested parties for us. Certainly a good cycle to start business."

The Autobot special ops snorted at those words dismissively.

"Ya can't break a bond an' ya can't bond a fully bonded couple to a third", she told him slowly as if talking to a sparkling. "So what's mah business there?"

"Oh please, Sparksong", Fender mocked. "After ye last stunt, ye honestly don't expect me to leave ye here with ye bondmate. Ye come with me so I can keep an eye on ye. Now be a good femme and allow them to insert the drug into ye systems. Think of ye bondmate. At least ye can see her again today."

During his explanations, two mechs had tried to grab Jazz and insert something into her energon line. Of course the femme had not allowed that.

"Why the knockout?" she growled, baring her teeth at the two mechs.

"Because ye are not supposed to see where ye are and where we take ye", the leader of the Breeders told her. "Again, I remind ye of your bondmate!"

Letting out an angry snarl, Jazz stilled her body and tried not to flinch as the drug was inserted into her systems. The only mech she had ever allowed to knock her out - though of course not exactly by her choice - was Ratchet. But the moody Autobot medical officer seemed to be so far away, that the saboteur for one klick was overcome by the feeling of homesickness. However, the feeling was gone just as suddenly as it came and stoically she watched her fellow femmes falling to the ground after being knocked out. She already lost her ability to control her own body, and soon darkness enveloped the saboteur.

* * *

><p>When Jazz came to again, the first thing she noticed was that she was outside. Her optics took in her surroundings blearily, while she fought to get rid of the remaining effects of the drug. Other femmes stirred as well, but since she was used to her systems ability of flushing out drugs far quicker than an average bot, the second in command suspected, she had been given a stronger dose than her fellow sufferers.<p>

Looking around some more she spotted Prowl's slumped body just a few steps away from her own, just then starting to stir. Noticing the Breeders occupied with securing the grounds -they did not expect anyone to wake up so quickly - she crawled over to her lover and pushed herself against his body. Satisfied with her new position, Jazz took the time to study their surroundings once more. They seemed to be inside a yard, belonging to an industrial plant. In fact the saboteur strongly suspected that they were still inside the grounds of the same factory that kept them prisoner.

Finished with her observation, the special ops agent decided there was nothing to do right now but wait till Prowl and the other femmes woke up again. Snuggling against her fellow officer's body, she offlined her optics, straining her senses while she waited.

Prowl awoke out of his forced recharge with a start. Jazz only noticed his onlining because of the small movement his body made. Feeling her servos being squeezed slightly in silent greeting, Jazz squeezed right back, letting the tactician know that she was awake and well.

Prowl took in his own impression of their current surroundings before he joined the saboteur in her pretence of still being offline. Both bots listened as hasty footsteps suddenly sounded at the entry to the yard and a mech came into view.

"Fender, they are coming!" the arriving Breeder told the leader who immediately barked his order to wake up the femmes and make them presentable. By the time Darkfin and two other Breeders lead the customers inside, all femmes stood huddled together at one place, with Jazz and Prowl protectively in front of them.

When the customers arrived, one of the two leading Breeders immediately approached Fender.

"Sir, Ah just got word from th' spaceport", he reported to the current leader. "The ship that was supposed to contain Scapeground's group, did not bring them."

Faceplates and optics darkening, Fender growled in obvious displease.

"That's the last ship inside the time frame Scape had specified", he rumbled. Jazz and Prowl, who had heard the whole conversation, exchanged a hidden, worried look, the Autobot femme going as far as to curse inside her processor. So the time they had was finally up. If they wanted to free the femmes before mistrust about Scapegrounds disappearance came up, they needed to hurry.

Meanwhile Fender came to his own decision.

"We take care of the deal here, then we will immediately investigate what happened over there on that mudball they call Earth", he ordered and the Breeders who had listened, nodded. Throwing his worries for the real leader of their group aside for now, Fender turned to the arrived customers with a big smile plastered over his face.

"Welcome, my dear friends", he addressed their potential buyer. "I am Fender, and I am pleased to introduce ye to the finest femmes ye could find right now!"

The customers, lead to their group by Darkfin now, composed of three mechs. The first one was a dark red, nearly black with blue optics. He was bulky built, had a hard looking armour and two big cannons on both arms which at the moment were secured. The dark look he wore on his faceplates was frightening and some of the femmes shrank into each other, already fearful of their fate.

The next mech was lithe and of bright, red colour. He seemed easy going and looked at the femmes with open curiousity. His blue optics were friendly enough and he seemed nearly nice if not for the small, nearly invisible light weapons on his right arm which he absentmindedly fiddled around with.

The third mech wore a colouring of gold, the paint gleaming as if freshly polished and waxed. He, while just as lithe as the red mech, looked just as dangerous and bad tempered as the first mech, their scowls nearly matching. He had bright if a bit cold looking, blue optics.

"Are these really all femmes you have?", the first mech addressed Fender, after he finished inspecting every single one of them. Before the Breeder could answer however, Jazz pushed forward, nearly succeeding in jumping at the dangerous looking mech, if not for three Breeders acting just in time of holding her in place.

Struggling the femme snarled right at the dark red coloured customer, voice unafraid.

"Ya fragger, ya really believe these aftheads would leave any femme behind wit' such a promisin' offer? Just don't expect any of us t' give in an' make this easy for ya!"

Her rant was interrupted when one of the Breeders holding her backhanded her across the faceplates. Let go by the other two mechs the moment she was hit, the saboteur stumbled backwards from the blow and would have fallen to the ground if not for Prowl who shot forward and caught her with his own body at the last moment.

"Sparksong!" he called out to her before glaring at the mech, who dared to hit his beloved.

"I will not forgive you for this!" he declared, voice surprisingly calm which unnerved the addressed Breeder more than anger or the threat itself would have. Jazz, faceplates currently buried into the chest of her supposed bondmate, grinned coldly to herself, knowing that her lover's attitude was just what he intended to cause them discomfort.

Fender, angered at the unplanned disruption, snapped his fingers together in a sign and two of his subordinates immediately grabbed both of the supposed femmes and pulled them aside from the rest of the group.

"Please do not heed those two any attention", he informed his three customers. "While we had to take them with us to ensure they would not try to escape, I sadly cannot offer them as bonded, because they are already bondmates to each other. However", here his faceplates took on a greedy look as he pointed at Prowl, "the one over there is currently expecting a sparkling which we could always offer, if you do not wish to wait for your own bondmate to be sparked."

"Interesting offer", the bright red mech mused. "Though right now I would rather take a look at all those nice femmes you have to offer as bondmates. So, can we concentrate on them first?"

"Of course, of course", the eager Breeder complied, putting everyone's attention to the prisoner femmes. Even the two mechs supposed to watch Jazz and Prowl were looking with half an optic at the negotiating taking place. Which was the exact reason why they did not notice the stasis cuffs that bound their prisoners' servos behind their backs, suddenly being deactivated by thin air. Nor did anyone notice the signal in the form of a nod tactician and saboteur gave to their unseen helper. Both sets of stasis cuffs moved before suddenly vanishing. The two Autobots however, stood with their servos behind they backs, looking like nothing had happened and they were still bound and helpless.

Silently Prowl and Jazz put their attention to the current discussion, biding their time, waiting for the right moment. Right now the golden and dark red mech were inspecting the femmes, ushering their guards aside a bit, to have more space for looking them over thoroughly.

The bright red mech on the other hand was busy small talking to Fender, both of them standing apart from the main group, closer to Prowl and Jazz in fact. Currently the two mechs were discussing the war and the end of it.

"No, no", the leader of the Breeders said. "I've had my fair share of Autobot and Decepticon customers during the war, though mostly just for using the femmes. Nevertheless some Decepticons certainly requested sparklings to restock their number in the ongoing fight."

"What a waste", the red mech growled, shaking his head.

"I agree", Fender hastily admitted. "Yet at the beginning it seemed Decepticons were the wiser choice to do business with. After all, they had the right ideas and ideals, while the Autobots certainly seemed to all think along the lines of that idiot Optimus Prime."

"Yet you still did business with some of the bots as well?" the other mech wanted to know.

"Of course, and some of the more important ones as well", the Breeder bragged. "I soon found out that not all bot's are as stupid as that Prime seems to be. Some have the right ideas. I mean, did you ever see, or at least hear about, that weapons specialist Ironhide, how he acts on the battlefield? Some say he's a bit too alike with how cons fight."

"So you know him?" the interested customer wanted to know while he strangely enough started to grin. Frowning, the leader of the Breeders wanted to answer but before he had a chance to, the mech was cut off by Jazz's sudden laughter.

"What are ye laughing at, ye useless femme?" the angry mech scowled at her, certainly aggravated by her mocking amusement.

"Ya never had t' look out for Autobots before, when ya hid in yer hole durin' the war, did ya?" the saboteur drawled scathingly. Fender laughed outright at that.

"Are ye kiddin' femme?" he asked her mockingly. "Why do ye think we survived the war and are currently so well back in business? The bots an' cons are interested in sparklings just as much as every other mech. Did ye know that the Autobot second in command was the one to approve our current hiding place, sometimes even sends customers our way?"

Some of the femmes gasped at those news, while others looked resigned. The Breeders chuckled cruelly and their leader smirked at the unfazed looking Jazz.

"Yes, dear Sparksong, the Autobot second and even their third in command are one of our best contacts, and recently Prowl asked for a sparkling of his own, now that peace is finally settling in again."

At his last words, the red painted customer could not hold in a snort of laughter, while his gold coloured partner sent a smirk right over to where Prowl stood besides Jazz. Darkfin seemed a lit taken aback as well as annoyed at the aloof way those two mechs acted.

"And what, dear mechs, is so funny about this?" the femme drawled, hands on her hips.

"Sorry", the bright red mech snickered, amused, "but the idea of Prowl, always-do-it-by-the-book Prowl, wanting a sparkling, let alone one taken through an illegal deal, is just too ridiculous to imagine without laughing. The sparkling part, I might add. In fact I dare say he would rather be right in the middle of these poor femmes ready to defend them from mecha like you than to buy his own sparkling, wouldn't he, mechs?" he asked grinning at his two companions.

Unable to help himself, Prowl revved his engine slightly in an unhappy growl, glaring over at the amused mech while the dark red and golden mech as well as Jazz smirked over at Fender. Attention pulled by the annoyed rev of the tactician, the Breeder only noticed the saboteur's smirk however and glared at the femme threateningly when he realised the cold amusement gleaming in her optics.

"What are ye smirking at, femme?" the mech demanded to know which made Jazz chuckle slightly in dark glee.

"Ya know, th' fact that ya tried t' unsettle meh by claimin' th' second an' third in command t' be yer customer's just a sad example of how much slag ya talk when in reality both of them are here right now to save every single femme held prisoner by yer servos. In fact, Ah'll tell ya a little secret. Th' Autobot third in command? That would be MEH!"

And with those words Jazz sprang into action before any of the Breeders could react. She kicked her two guards to the ground, leaving them at the mercy of Prowl, who already held the guns he had hidden in his secret compartment, against their headplates. Though the tactician could not resist handing out a strong kick against the knee joint to the one mech that had hit his lover earlier. Jazz however did not even look at what happened behind her back. She simply reached for Fender and before the mech realised what was going on, his body crumpled to the ground, deactivated by an energon knife sliced through his neckcables.

The murder of their leader brought the other Breeders back to life it seemed, however Jazz's attack was all the Autobots ever needed as signal. Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and Ironhide, their fake colours still in place, already had two Breeders per bot overwhelmed. Mirage, who had successfully used the little trick he possessed of becoming invisible to free Prowl and Jazz while the twins and the weapon's specialist were distracting the audience, used his invisibility again to overwhelm mech after unsuspecting mech, knocking them offline for a while.

The other Autobots as well as their Decepticon allies were also there. Bumblebee and Hound, followed by Chromia and even little Wheels, focused their weapons on the overwhelmed mechs and one femme, whose optics shone bright with shock and fear.

From the air, Starscream and Thundercracker flew in loops over the heads of the groundbound, strafing every one of the Breeders who so much as dared to think about running or trying to return fire. The last of their group, Skywarp with his special ability, suddenly showed up right beside one of the femmes and took care of every keeper that had been supposed to watch the femmes as carefully as they could.

The fact was, the Breeders stood no chance. While superior in numbers, not only were they taken totally by surprise, but they were also nothing but civilians that happened to be scofflaws. Neither the mechs nor the one femme were battle-hardened warriors like the cons and bots currently overwhelming them.

The resistance of the Breeders lasted all of one and a half breems before the last mech gave up. Besides Fender's very much intenional death only three more of the thirty ended up terminated by some unlucky shot, while one mech nearly offlined from being buried by a collapsing building, courtesy of Ironhide's cannons.

Darkfin, who was now the highest ranking member of the Breeders, stared in stupefied disbelief at her cuffed servos, unable to believe the truth of the moment. Finally she looked up, searching the face of the femme that was smirking right at her faceplates.

"Impossible", the femme Breeder shrieked, enraged. "How did those... these miscreants even find us? No one knew, we made SURE the femmes did not talk."

"True, they didn't talk, but Ah also didn't lie when Ah told Fender Ah'm second in command", Jazz told the enraged femme serenely. "An' even wit' th' war over, Prowl an' Ah're rather close t' our Prime. In fact, we're part of th' groups investigating mechs that wish t' bond t' a femme, exactly because of how rare those are. So, imagine mah surprise when Ah was supposed t' take a look at th' newest petitioner an' recognised Scapeground an' Softglow."

"Scapeground", Darkfin moaned, shocked. "What did ya do to him?"

The saboteur grinned at her dangerously.

"Guess", she purred and the Breeder's body sunk to the ground, finally defeated.

"Ya killed him", she cried, voice sounding truly devastated. "Ya killed the boss!"

Whispers went around the other prisoner Breeders, fear glowing even stronger in their optics now.

"He didn't even know who he was dealin' wit' until his deactivation", Jazz agreed carelessly. "Unlike Fender an' ya, he never suspected who Ah had been."

"Ya murderer!" the devastated femme, cried into his face. "Ya tricked us. This was all a plan, to turn us over to the stupid authorities under command of that stupid Prime."

Her words did nothing but cause he third in command to scoff at her while Prowl, now without a hologram concealing his true form, came to stand right beside the saboteur. The tactician even went as far as to put his arm around his lover's side.

"Comin' from ya Ah' not sure if ya mockin' yerself or complimentin' meh", Jazz told Darkfin while leaning into the embrace offererd by her friend. "Ah just returned th' favour of yers all those vorns ago, when ya betrayed all of us. Nevertheless, I've seen enough of ya scum. Get her away from meh!

The Autobot special ops agent looked pointedly at Thundercracker and Chromia who had taken a stance beside Darkfin during their talk, the blue coloured Autobot femme looking quite disgusted with the Breeder. Nodding to their leader of the current operation, the two mecha complied and leading the now shrieking and cursing femme away to the waiting ship, followed by all the other prisoner Breeders, guided by a number of bot and con guards.

The rest of the Auotbots carefully addressed the freed femmes, offering to take them to a different ship that was supposed to escort them to Earth, there they would be looked over by Ratchet and First Aid and would find help from free mechs and femmes alike for their start into a new life of freedom.

The femmes were fearful and uncertain at the beginning but when Jazz, who they knew as Sparksong, reassured them that she would be on the same ship for the journey, they decided to follow, because truth to be told, they felt rather helpless and did not know what to do.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, who had especially carefully watched Jazz's exchange between herself and Darkfin, now came closer to congratulate the saboteur on a mission successfully executed. The more outgoing of the twins though could not help but stare in the direction where the prisoner Breeders were lead away.

"And you got involved with those fraggers during one of your undercover missions acting as a femme?" Sideswipe wanted to know. "Well, you really stumbled over some of the worst, that's for sure. I'm sorry, Jazz."

The currently red coloured twin shook his head in sad disbelief before waving his brother over.

"Common, Sunny, let's get these pieces of scrap to their respective brigs."

"Don't call me that!" the golden painted twin growled, hitting Sideswipe upside the head. He nodded at Prowl and Jazz before running to catch up with the Breeders, leading them to the waiting ship. However, even with most of the mechs and femmes now leaving, the saboteur and tactician found themselves far from being alone.

"Sir, can we talk to you for an astrosecond?" Mirage asked. He and Bumblebee still stood near their commanders, both looking slightly uncomfortable and hesitant. Jazz exchanged a quick look with the tactician before turning her attention back to her two subordinates.

"Is this ops business?" she wanted to know. The two agents shook their heads.

"Then ya don't mind Prowl stayin'?"

"Sir, to be honest, we're not sure if that is a good idea", Bumblebee admitted slowly. "This is rather private."

"If it's something about meh, then Ah really don't mind Prowl listenin'", the femme declared, smiling slightly at the tactician. "Prowl's by now knows all that's t' know about meh."

"Have you two sparkshared?" Mirage blurted out daringly, though his features now showed a mixture between embarrassment, guilt and determination."

For an astrosecond Jazz's visor and Prowl's optics flickered in surprise before the saboteur seemed to realise the reason for the question and a small smile appeared at the corner of her lipplates.

"No, we haven't yet", the third in command answered before sending her lover a tender gaze. "But Ah'm ready t' do exactly that, whenever we get th' chance now", she added with a rather soft tone. Understanding bloomed in Prowl's optics and Jazz turned her head to her two subordinates, grinning at them.

"Ah think Ah know what ya're gettin' at", the Autobot special ops agent told them. "But Prowl knows, so ya can ask away."

"Will you tell them?" Mirage asked unusual softly, gazing over to where the twins, now finished with putting the Breeders into their respective brigs, were busy entertaining some of the femmes, much to Ironhide's and Chromia's annoyance.

"The truth?" the saboteur wanted to clarify, her look joining the former Tower mech at watching their comrades and friends.

"Yes", Bumblebee joined the conversation.

"Ah might", Jazz considered thoughtfully. "Ah never thought about this before. T' be honest, Ah've been too afraid t' reveal mahself t' anyone. But now, after Ah've seen ya all rage an' help getting those Breeder afts kicked..."

She trailed of and looked into Prowl's optics, who held her gaze and nodded just slightly in encouragement. The femme immediately broke out into a sincere smile, which she then directed at Mirage and Bumblebee.

"Ah'll no longer deny it, if anyone ever asks", she told them of her decision. "Ah've already taken the first step when Ah decided t' share mah secret wit' three mechs. Now, after seeing Sides and Sunny kick aft for how the Breeders treated us femmes and watching them now trying to reduce the femmes fears, Ah feel better an' more willin' t' trust than Ah've felt in hundred of vorns."

"So, you'll stay the way you look right now?" Bumblebee curiously asked, his voice hinting his uncertainty if he honestly liked or disliked the idea of his senior suddenly looking so different in form and colour. Jazz however started to laugh and shook her head dismissively.

"No, pit, no", she told the young bot amused. "While this certainly resembles how Ah looked in th' past, Ah've come t' like what Sparksong turned into. Ah feel far more comfortable an' confident as "Jazz", no matter the past. "An' Ah suspect Prowler over there wouldn't mind a bit of familiarity as well, now that he already has t' deal wit' th' knowledge that his berthmate is a femme."

"Jazz!" Prowl exclaimed, thought a barely there smile turned up at the corner of his lipplates. Mirage and Bumblebee could not help but snicker at their tactician's expense, while the saboteur grinned brightly at her best friend and beloved.

"Well mechs, Ah don't know how ya feel, but personally Ah think it's been a long orn an' Ah really want t' go back home now. Ah'm sure Optimus an' even dear Megs an' Hatchet are rather anxiously waitin' for our return, don't ya agree?"

"Yes sir!" both Mirage and Bumblebee exclaimed, the young scout even went as far as to mock salute their commanding officer.

"Let's return home then", Prowl calmly agreed with a tiny smile.

* * *

><p>Jazz had been right. Optimus was indeed anxiously awaiting the return of the operation unit together with High Lord Protector Megatron and Ratchet, who wasted no time to round up every single member into the medbay for a check up. While being as moody and grouchy as he always was with the Autobots and Decepticons, the mecha found themselves surprised when he acted rather careful and nearly tender towards the newly freed femmes.<p>

The next few orns after their return the ten femmes spent a lot of time in the medbay together with Jazz, Softglow - who had been crying in happiness while being reunited with what she called her family - and sometimes even some of the other mechs and femmes from the Autobots and Decepticons. Softglow, who had spent a lot of time with Arcee and the currently visiting Elita One, a good friend of Optimus and former femme Autobot commander during the war, was a big help in warming the femmes up to their new surroundings. After three orns in the Autobot CMO's care Ratchet even made the tentative diagnosis that with continued care like this, the traumatised femmes might be able to recover nearly to full functioning after a long period of intensive therapy.

The captured Breeders were taken to the High Lord Protector and Prime themselves who wished to deal with them personally. Optimus sentenced each of them to lifelong service all around Cybertron while Megatron pushed through the right to interrogate the higher ups like Darkfin about their customers, because he believed that at least some Decepticons and perhaps even some of the Autobots, straying from the real causes they had been fighting for at the beginning of the war, were still involved in the criminal activity surrounding the Breeders.

During all that excitement, not to mention Jazz's reconstruction to her old form, personal moments between the saboteur and Autobot second in command had become rather limited.

Now, however, with the Breeders shipped back to Cybertron in the company of some of the best special ops agents Jazz and Starscream had to offer for this task, and with the femmes finally losing some of their fear and insecurities, a hint of everyday routine returned to the lives of the Earth-based Cybertronian's, including the lives of Jazz and Prowl.

For the saboteur, however, getting back to normal was no longer enough. The events of the past orns forced her to take a rather large and daring step, one she did not regret at all. And this night, exactly 30 orns after her attack on Scapeground which ended with her revelation to Prowl of her identity as a femme, she decided she was ready for the next daring step.

Jazz had invited Prowl to her room for a private celebration of the positive outcome their whole mission had resulted in. Just as it had been since they first became friends, saboteur and tactician were able to drink and talk with each other easily enough. And now that Prowl knew about her greatest secret, things seemed to be even easier.

Jazz no longer had any reservations left. The femme flirted with the tactician as she always had done and Prowl countered her playful comments with the usual wit he always showed. But this night, before the second in command even knew what happened, he suddenly found himself trapped under the lithe, silver body of his berthmate, following a rather daring comment he had made.

Purring Jazz had her EM fields fully running, the heated, emotion filled field clashing unusually violently with the one Prowl reflexively offered back.

"Mmmh, Prowler", the femme moaned, her back arching when metal turned sensitive to touch under the activated EM fields, front scratching against the tactician's own. The second in command was touching her sides with his servos, stroking and exploring while allowing her to keep control by still trapping his body under hers.

"Jazz", Prowl whispered back before he let out a surprised moan of his own, when her servos suddenly pressed against his especially sensitive doorwings. She had always been feisty, femme or mech did not matter and it certainly did not change anything for him now that he knew the truth. The pressure against his doorwings filled his processor as pleasantly as a well brewed highgrade. Heat rushed through his energon lines, making him oh so very much aware of all the emotiones this one bot was able to evoke within him.

Her touch filled him with love, allowed him to sense her own adoration of him, all without the need to connect ports or sparks. The way she touched him, the careful and loving pressure she put on his body, his doorwings especially, spoke of nothing but the wish to make him feel good, to allow him to see how much she cared and how much Jazz wanted to deepen that care, to become intimiate.

They did not allow this to happen with anyone else. The love was there, for both of them to see and when the saboteur stroked the outer part of his doorwings, rather sensuously, leaving Prowl to cry out in pleasure and steadily growing need, he told her what he wanted her to know the most.

"I love you, Jazz!" Prowl breathed and those wonderful, pleasuring claws on his armour stopped their ministrations immediately. Jazz looked down at the tactician lying under her. Even revved up as he was right now the look he gave her was so serene, so calm, confirming the truth of his words just like that. She certainly could not help it but be left in awe for him.

"Prowler, will ya bond wit' meh?" she whispered softly, carefully. Prowl's optics glowed bright in surprise at the unforeseen question.

"Jazz, is that wise?" the second in command asked the femme uncertainly. "We have not even shared sparks yet, at your request, which I respected. And now you wish to bond?"

Jazz gave him a smile, sincere and honest.

"Ah trust ya, Prowl", she told him. "Ah trust ya wit' mah whole spark. Sharin' is no necessary step ya need t' gain mah trust. Ya already earned it."

The tactician looked at the third in command long and hard, calculating and processing what he saw.

"You are still afraid", he finally concluded, voice calm and understanding. "Bonding would force us to share our very core with each other, we would be unable to hide anything. This is why you would feel more reassured with bonding right now instead of just sharing sparks, which would only be an exchange of emotions on the surface, allowing us to hide what we want. I understand, Jazz."

The femme blinked down at him in surprise before she let out air through her vents in a deep sigh.

"Ah'm still afraid", she admitted, voice defeated. "An' Ah'm sorry, but Ah can't help it. Ya proved t' meh again an' again durin' these last few orns that Ah can trust ya t' th' core wit' everythin'. An' if bondin' t' ya shows meh somethin' Ah wouldn't like, that betrays mah trust in ya, it wouldn't matter if Ah'm bonded or not, because it would destroy meh anyway.

"So far, though Ah don't see any reason why ya shouldn't have been anything but truthful t' meh. Yet this small uncertainty, this fear still remains. Ah'm not sure if Ah'll ever be able t' fully get rid of it concernin' mechs. Only in yer case, there's a chance because ya th' one Ah really, honestly wish t' spent th' rest of mah existance wit'."

Jazz looked down at the tactician, her shining optics, not hidden by her visor right now, full of love and adoration for the mech under her.

"Ah love ya, Prowler", she whispered. "An' Ah really, honestly want ya t' be mah mate, no matter the fear. Ya don't have t' answer meh now. Just know that Ah'm honest an' consider if ya feel th' same or not."

Prowl's reaction was instant. He wound his arms around the femme and pulled her body tightly against his own, his EM field brushing against hers in a loving, sparkfelt gesture of intimacy.

"Jazz", the second in command addressed her hoarsely, voice thick with unusual emotion. "If you had not requested to not share sparks with me I would have already asked you to bond with me the moment the war was over. I don't need to think this over. I have been ready to bind myself to you forever for a long, long time. And if you are absolutely sure this is what you want, then we can consummate the bond whenever you are ready."

With a delighted cry, the saboteur threw herself tightly into the waiting arms of the mech under her. EM fields flared to life once more, and with the growing joors, the heat and volume of their voices increased as their pleasure reached their highest point.

Jazz and Prowl consummated the bond in the dark of night, with no one as their witness. Their sparks joined to become one with no one the wiser, and the pleasure and happiness they shared that very night more than once, was something they kept secret for for a long, long time.

Even after the bond was consummated, Prowl and Jazz acted the same outside of their berth. The only thing that changed was the their finally moving to a shared apartment, something a lot of Autobots and Decepticons had been waiting for by now, but besides that no one thought the second and third in command to be more than lovers.

It was not until another 28 orns had gone by, the Earthan one year anniversary of Prowl's and Jazz's secret bonding, that the Autobots and Decepticons living together in Tron City found out not one but two secrets of the two Auotobot commanders.

Former friends and former foes had been spending their evening in an energon bar Thundercracker, of all mechs, had opened not too long ago, where they could not only enjoy some high grade but also engage in learning some human customs as well as to indulge in some Cybertronian bar games or just talk.

Even Prowl was seen in that bar once in a while, spending time with the twins, Ratchet or even Optimus and Megatron, both leaders usually visiting the bar themselves together. This night it was only Jazz and Ratchet missing from their close round and the evening had been normal enough.

The first hint the mecha had been given was that suddenly Prowl cringed unexpectedly in the middle of a tale he was telling, voice dying in the middle of a sentence. Then his body tensed, doorwings straightening in a stiff form of full alert. Bumblebee, who had joined their round tonight together with his two human charges Sam and Mikaela, was about to ask the tactician what was wrong, when all of the sudden Jazz stormed into the room, closely followed by an annoyed looking Ratchet.

The saboteur was showing her brightest, shit eating grin she had ever formed and she ran straight up to her bonded, nearly slamming into his lap.

"Prowler, ya won't believe it!" the femme cried full of happiness. The second in command returned her look with one of suspicion.

"Jazz, what are you not telling me?" he wanted to know, referring to their bond, which currently send him a tumble of happy emotions, a chaos so big he was unable to sort through and get to the bottom of their origin.

"Ah'm wit' spark!" Jazz answered delighted, not caring that her words could be heard by more than just her now pleasantly shocked bondmate. The reaction that followed the sudden, disbelieving silence was immediate.

"WHAT?" came from one corner of the room, two of those voices belonging to Sam and Mikaela, who had been taught all about sparking and sparklings by their Cybertronian friends.

"Jazz is sparked?"

"Jazz is a FEMME?"

"Just a second, but are those two BONDED?"

"Slaggit, Jazz I'm killing you for dropping a bomb like that!" rang from different mouthplates all around the room, the last exclamation belonging to the growling CMO himself. And then a booming voice drowned out the flustered noise from everyone else.

"HA, I knew it! Pay up Optimus!" Megatron rejoiced while the Prime resisted smacking one servo against his own faceplate in embarrassment. Another silence followed where everyone, even a slightly interested Jazz stared at the Lord High Protector. Then all hell broke loose.

But all in all, it was just another day in the steadily growing Cybertronian city on Earth. A day where a war was starting to feel like nothing but a tale and where the past seemed like just a bad dream. Now, peace and happiness had entered the life of so many mechs and femmes. Life was not perfect, and some bad things still happened on Earth as well as on Cybertron. But the current mecha on Earth were trying their best to bring peace and justice to their world. And it were events like the one Jazz and Prowl were currently experiencing, that brought the hope to other mecha, that their future was certainly going to be bright.

The End


End file.
